


By Moonlight

by ColonelSpades



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, As close to canon as I can with a few added flavors, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, canon adjacent, tw alcoholism mentioned in spots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelSpades/pseuds/ColonelSpades
Summary: "A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." - Oscar WildeAs Jack travels with Ana on their mission, strange dreams invade his mind and druge up the past. The presence of an unfamiliar woman in each of them, and clashes with Reaper, only serve to twist his mind further about the present and future- and what it means to uncover what happened to Overwatch. As the new Overwatch begins its work, it must confront ghosts from the past, and a larger scheme that threatens some of its members.Relevant TWs at the beginning of chapters, other ships will be added to summary and AN's as they appear, see AN for info on this.Anahardt
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. Dreamer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic! Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> While this features R76 heavily, it is not limited to that storyline, and other ships will be added to summary and AN's so I can make sure people are aware, but they don't get thrown in the tags when it's not a larger portion of the story- just for transparency's sake! If you think it would be better to put those ships in the tags, do let me know!  
> Any trigger warnings will be at the beginning of chapters here with a short note about severity.
> 
> Relevant headcanon info will be in the end of chapter notes!
> 
> If you would like updates about when this will be updating, do check out my twitter ColonelSpades(@ColSpades)
> 
> Thank you to Tom and Per who have been betaing this fic (and putting up with me for weeks while I work on it)!
> 
> Applicable TWs:  
> Minor alcoholism mention

_"Who are you? Have you always been him?"_

_He stares through the door at the stretching hallway. Its length is not what bothers him. It's the rest of the situation._

_A dream. That much he knows. Lucid? He isn't quite sure. He feels in control of himself, but, try as he might to alter it, the colors of the bannister are wrong. They're blue- Overwatch blue- instead of warm off-white. The room is bathed in dawn light but they married in the afternoon, didn't they? Beside him is an uninvited guest. Her smile is warm, her hair a voluminous deep brown, and her demeanor is too intense despite her relative quiet._

_"What are you looking for, Sunshine?" Gabriel smiles at him, but the expression doesn’t reach eyes that are bereft of emotion; dull tree bark instead of warm cinnamon. He didn't know the man was here. Gabe’s hand stretches out, and Jack stares at the way his fingers seem to curl into claws. He reaches forward, takes the clawed hand._

_Jack looks from Gabriel to the woman, and her presence agitates him, though he doesn’t know why; unsure why he doesn’t feel inspired to do anything about her._

_Between one blink and the next, he’s standing at the ceremony, Gabriel’s vacant gaze unnervingly fixed on him. The woman’s voice is beside him, but her words are obscured as he looks at Gabriel’s hands clasped in his own. Was she the priest at their wedding? He can’t recall the answer._

_“Is this who you want to be?” He isn’t sure who asks._

Jack opened his eyes, breathing in sharply. Sitting up in one motion, he surveyed the small space he and Ana had cleared out for the night. She was at the table with her tea, tablet open, though her attention turned to him, now.

“Thought I would need to leave you, Sleeping Beauty,” she said. “As much as I like that you’re sleeping more, I don't like being late.” He frowned. She seemed groggy as well, and he looked away to check his phone, the display reading 0812 in the morning.

“Hadn’t planned on it,” he grimaced. “Did you just wake up?”

“No, I’ve been awake since 0745.” Later than either ever slept. They were usually up by 6, out the door by 7, and both were too strict about their habits to have suddenly slept in. He thought about the dream, the woman. Her face was so unfamiliar, growing ever more distant as the dream continued to fade, but her gaze kept scratching at the back of his mind- like he had indeed met her before.

“Didn’t wanna interrupt my sleep?” He asked, halfway between sheepish and joking.

“No, your morning breath is lethal,” she shot back easily. “Less whiskey at bed and I might be inclined to come near you before breakfast.”

Ana checked his wound as he ate what they had left for food. They’d need to get more at the next town they stopped in. But given their current travel plans, it was good not to lug around perishables.

“Angela’s supplies have certainly helped- I’m surprised that it’s still not healing more.” Ana let him go and he stretched, testing how it felt. When he was satisfied, he looked around with a frown, his mask not in its usual place by his sleeping bag.

“Who knows. Whatever O’Deorain put on his shells is bound to be made to fight anything that could reverse or fix it.” Ana made a noncommittal noise and they packed up in silence. He finally found his mask, slipped it on. They finished packing, moving around in comfortable silence before they were out and on the move towards the hypertrain station.

“We’ll take the train to Port Said and hitch a ride with a contact there. That’ll get us to Europe.” Ana made a noise of acknowledgement.

***

The hypertrain was quiet in the baggage areas. As much as Jack would have loved to sit further up, he wasn’t keen on people these days, and he especially wasn’t keen on a fuss being raised. The last thing they needed was an idiot making a grab for the bounties on their heads. Ana had agreed in some measure- though not without a somewhat dramatic comment about her age. The view wasn’t all bad.

The ride was calm, uneventful in a way that made Jack ache with need for _something_ that wasn’t sitting on someone’s vacation gear for a few hours. He was used to traveling, but something about the excitement of their fight with Reaper and the battle with Hakim and his guards made him itch for more outlets for his energy.

The woman who met them outside of the port town was just as protected as them. Her plane was small, but faster than most crafts. Jack’s claustrophobia skittered through his nerves like a river and he felt agitated just staring at the thing. But it was the best way to get to Europe without being noticed, and Belle had never shown any signs of betraying Jack; even if they only knew each other by their monikers. That didn’t quite make him feel better about the cramped flight, but Ana’s supply of… whatever she used to knock him out previously had him in a haze for most of the journey.

When they landed, Jack was awake- and glad to get out and stretch. Belle ducked into town, grabbed the three of them a bite to eat. After, she was given gratitude from them both, as well as Jack’s only consistent form of currency: information. Jack’s ventures into old Overwatch bases combined with his knowledge yielded a goldmine of it in a concrete form that he’d found was useful to others; such as old resource depots, hidden bases, and other small treasures left in the wake of Overwatch’s fall. Even so many years later, not even half of Overwatch's retinue of bases had been rediscovered- even less fully pillaged of their parts and precious secrets. Trading information like that was easy, and utilizing the base locations for himself meant that he had some form of payment for what he needed, as well as secure locations around the world where he could rest his head.

They travelled as far and long as they could on foot before they hitched a ride on a passing train. It was older; not a sleek zipping hypertrain, but one of steel and coal. They rested in a car side by side, the world outside meandering slowly by.

“You’re sure this is headed to Edessa?” Ana asked when they were settled. Jack set his phone on the ground between them and a small map projected into the air, displaying the railway system.

“Goes to Edessa, then to Florina. We’ll hop off there and cross the border into North Macedonia.”

“Did you plan supply runs or are you forgetting not _all_ of us can go days without eating?” Ana asked wryly. The enhanced body Jack possessed meant that he was capable of surviving in the worst of conditions: poor weather, scarce food, little to no sleep, and grievous injury, amongst other perks. She had seen both Jack and Gabriel go without food many times during the worst of the Crisis, neither losing any noticeable steam. Though Jack could be a human garbage disposal, shoveling pretty much anything into his mouth short of Ana’s cooking, he could also live off of an apple and his own stubbornness for a week, she was pretty sure.

He blinked at her owlishly for a moment and she sighed, question answered in that split second. She scrolled through the map, eye flicking around locations.

“Bitola. It’s large enough that we can shop in town without too much fuss, and there’s a base at the south end we can use to set up and sleep in.” He looked it over and nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. How are you doing?” She sighed and sat back as he put his phone away. She wasn’t genetically enhanced but she kept up with him just fine. She’d spent her recent years in Egypt fighting the good fight despite her previous memory loss and trauma, despite watching what she had helped build crumble to dust. He wondered if she felt guilt for disappearing, or perhaps anger at him for Overwatch’s fall. He’d said they couldn’t do it without her- he meant it. And even if he questioned why she didn’t return, he couldn’t really blame her. After all, she’d been right, he’d done the same thing.

“I’m fine, Jack.” His brows furrowed briefly, and she smiled in return. He nodded after studying her and sat back, looking out at the passing countryside. It was growing colder and colder, and they were both glad for their layers. But when they needed a bit more, Ana shuffled to his side and leaned against him as he pulled out his sleeping bag and unfurled it over them. Jack radiated heat like a furnace, and she was glad for it as she warmed up between that and the bag.

When she awoke later, it was from Jack rousing her, and they hopped off the train without incident, heading north towards the border. It’d be a trek to get to Bitola, but they’ve had worse, and Ana was glad for the constant movement to keep her warm. After spending so long in Egypt, she wasn’t pleased to return to bitter chill.

It was evening when they arrived at a beaten down snow-coated base. They secured the area before they left their gear- save their pistols for protection- and ventured into town for supplies. It took roughly an hour, but when they returned, they had enough to last them a while, and they shared food while Jack’s phone played a news report.

“I always wonder what use massive mansions have, _aside_ from being eyesores,” Ana remarked suddenly. Looking up from where he’d been cleaning the pulse rifle, he gave her a questioning look. Ana had set down the med kit she’d been taking inventory of previously, eye too tired to properly process their stock. “Apparently the answer is “Nothing, except aesthetics and bragging rights”.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

“What, you _don’t_ want twenty bathrooms?” He asked, setting down his tools to move to the small table of food they had set up.

“Mm. I’m sure that with a smaller home I won’t get lost trying to use just the one bathroom.” Her wry smirk was mirrored on his own scarred lips.

“Whose is it?” Jack tossed a few cashews into his mouth.

“Dr. Diana Artino. ‘They made advancements in neurology and degenerative brain disorders, specializing in memory and trauma therapies’,” Ana read from her tablet. “They’re contracted with Vishkar, it seems.”

“Artino sounds familiar,” Jack mumbled.

“Appears they’ve been a socialite in certain circles for a while. Says here they were a staple at charity functions. You likely shook hands with them at least once.” Ana didn’t look up from where she’d occupied herself with her tablet again.

“Might’ve. What do they look like?” Ana turned the tablet around. An image of a tanned face with wisps of artfully applied makeup curtained by waves of jet black hair and strands of golden wire dangling from a gold headband gazed back at him. “Seems flashy,” he grunted with a wrinkle of his nose.

“They’re well known for their outfits and “personality”. Ah, here we are.” Ana turned her tablet back to him again and the same person stood astride Jack, in full Strike-Commander regalia, their own outfit one of dusky blue and white accented with myriad golden accessories throughout. He was shaking hands with them, the pair looking a shade of professionally pleased that was perfected for such events. Though, Jack was sure he’d been bordering on dehydration since those photo ops usually were at least an hour long and filled with bright, hot lights while he stood in 30 pounds of functional armor.

He made a disinterested noise in his throat. The program changed, they listened until they settled in for the night, and silence coasted them to sleep.

***

The monitor flicked awake, and hazel eyes opened, blinking away the rest of the darkness.

“Guardian, they have arrived safe in Bitola. I have also finished processing data from the most recent session. There was a disturbance in his REM sleep cycle, but it did not continue for longer than 35 seconds. It is currently unknown if he was aware during the session for that period.”

“If he was, I doubt it changes anything. Thank you, my dear. Has Dr. O’Deorain responded yet?”

“Dr. O’Deorain sent a reply at 22:24. Would you like to hear the message?”

“Yes, please. And turn the lighting up 25%.”

“Certainly.” The lighting rose, and the figure sat up further, a stretch and yawn following. “Message from: Dr. Moira O’Deorain. Received today at 22:24: _Thank you for your prompt reply. I’m aware of the orders, but requesting is easier than doing. As his state is in constant flux, I cannot produce something that would reliably do what you’re asking without testing, and given his reasonable paranoia, I can likely not test more than once._

_I can tell you that he does not regularly sleep, and he has reported for years now that he does not dream, so both happening in one night would likely be enough to make him agitated. Send me your notes on the sleeping agent you’ve been using and I’ll see what I can do to alter it to affect Reaper._

_As I specified in our previous correspondences, I do not make promises I cannot keep, and I will not make any here. I cannot guarantee that the state you are looking for is achievable in Reaper._ ”

A hum followed, painted lips set in a smile.

“Message response: Thank you for your insight. I will send the notes for the sleeping agent as well as the chemist that makes it for me. Get in touch with him and he’ll be able to help you with any questions you may have about adapting it to affect our Reaper. I’ll do what I can to help you. Do remember that time is on our side.”

“Message sent.”

“Please have the transport loaded and send the session data to the onboard computer. Update me if Morrison and Amari's course alters.”

“Of course, Guardian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously Jack will eat anything. Even if you don't think it's good, Jack will probably eat it.


	2. Elusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ana continue to move towards the heart of Europe, and Angela considers her place in the new Overwatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Tom and Per for betaing and helping again!
> 
> Relevant TWs:
> 
> Brief alcoholism mention

_He’s walked these halls before. Perhaps not them exactly, but… They’re familiar. Though, they extend too long, and he hasn’t seen any exits for a while. When he comes to a fork in the road, he takes the right, continues down and follows it when it turns. At the end of the next hallway is a door._

_He runs to it, only then recognizing the door to the apartment he'd had as Strike-Commander. Opening it, he frowns at the inside. The apartment is as he remembered it. But it’s full of plants, from those next to the door to the ones dotted around the kitchen and through to the balcony. Beautiful, but delicate. He stares at them and tries to remember Vincent's instructions, tries to recall the name of Vincent's workplace._

_“Jack?” Vincent is drying his hands as he exits the kitchen. His expression is curious, but his eyes seem so dead, hollow of emotion._

_“Vincent?” He asks back with an odd numbness to his tongue. Vincent smiles, but the expression still doesn't reach those lifeless eyes._

_“Thought you wouldn’t be home until later.” A pang of grief sinks into his chest. It’s been so long. He hasn’t seen Vincent in so many years, and he looks just like he did the night Jack and Vincent finally agreed to split._

_“I.. got out early,” he finds himself saying. There’s a sense of dread and foreign confusion that engulfs him. Why this moment?_

_“Do you think he loved you?” In his living room sits the woman. She holds a teacup in her hands, looking relaxed, save her ever intense gaze boring into him._

_“Of course,” Jack stammers out, staring at the image of Vincent. Vincent's expression is unreadable, now, but his gaze hasn’t moved from Jack._

_“Could you ever choose me, truly, Strike-Commander?” Vincent asks. He falters, and the floor drops from beneath him._

Jack startled awake with a pitched noise. He sat up, looked around as he worked to even out his breathing. Ana was once again already up and at the table, eye on him with a questioning tilt to her brow. He didn’t speak yet, gathering his bearings as the last vestiges of the dream continued to bleed away. He blindly grabbed for his phone, only to find it wasn’t where he’d left it the night before.

“Dream…” He finally grunted. Ana nodded wordlessly. “Had one back in Cairo that felt… similar.” But it was fading fast. His brows furrowed. Vincent.. That odd woman again. But he couldn’t recall the rest of it.

“Perhaps your mind is trying to tell you something. Or your ‘nightcaps’ are starting to take their toll,” Ana said with a little more severity than he would’ve expected. But he wasn’t about to touch that at the moment. “It’s almost 0800. Get some food and let’s get going.”

He got up, and they ruminated on the day’s plans as he ate before they packed up and moved out. It took cleaning up to find his phone under his mask.

They’d been travelling north quickly and smoothly for days, and Jack appreciated Ana's presence and companionship immensely. She was a balm to his paranoia and fractured sense of self- and as far as he’d seen, she was more than glad to be with him again as well. Loneliness didn’t consume either of them so easily, now.

***

Gruž market was bustling and crowded during the morning, the view of Luka Gruz obscured half the time by people. But as noon rapidly approached, the area quieted just enough for Jack and Ana’s comfort. There was ample activity, making no one question the elderly couple who walked arm in arm and bought food and supplies, but not so much that it scared the pair back into their quiet base. As far as anyone knew, they were tourists.

When they returned from the outing, Ana took the time to start the kettle for tea and checked her tablet as she waited. It wasn’t long before she made a thoughtful noise, still looking at the screen.

“Something wrong?” Jack zipped his duffel bag and swapped to Ana’s bag, taking inventory as he methodically moved around.

“Angela messaged me,” she murmured thoughtfully. “She says she’s decided to join Overwatch.”

“She can do what she wants. Why’s she alerting us?”

Ana read from the text, “ _I will be at Watchpont: Gibraltar for the foreseeable future. I thought it would be good to tell you, should either of you have need of me. Winston has re-established the Overwatch communications network, and our current mission is to attempt to visit some of the ecopoints around the world with Dr. Zhou. She brought some concerning data from Ecopoint: Antarctica, and we’re theorizing that similar data could be collected from other Ecopoints.  
There could be crucial information there regarding the climate phenomena around the world. Since Søndervig is the closest, we will be going there first._”

Jack considered in silence, and Ana tended to the kettle at her side, the lid rattling.

"Guess I wasn't expecting her to go back.” His brows came together, the scar between them wrinkling. Ana said nothing as she poured their tea and he joined her a moment later, sitting at her side. Companionable silence settled over them briefly, focusing on their tea.

"It's good to know where she is. But Egypt has now lost the both of us. Perhaps it is irrational to believe it changes much, but I still worry." Her voice was tired, and her expression mirrored that. His hand rested on one of her folded legs. She was glad for that contact- a wordless conversation- question and answer passed between them fluidly as she stared into her steaming cup. "I know Fareeha will protect her home, but I still want to be part of what changes things for the better there."

Her tone was level, but the underlying waters of doubt were clearly near the surface. It would take more than two vigilantes or an illegal operation or security personnel to fix the situation in Egypt. Despite his desire to move forward, he didn't feel calloused towards the plight of those in Cairo. Part of it was and is still Overwatch’s fault. But what was the point of fending off endless attacks from a hydra without attempting to stab at the heart of the beast? Talon would only continue to grow heads the longer it was left.

"What should we tell her?" Jack gave a questioning grunt in reply, pulled from his thoughts, and Ana held up the tablet for reference. "Angela."

"If Gibraltar’s facilities are up and running, I'd be glad to try to get her a sample of whatever the hell's in my back. See if she can reverse it."

“More work for Angela, then?” She asked with some humor.

“Even death won’t stop me from that. Besides, might help them fight whatever O’Deorain’s put on Reyes’ ammo. If not for me, then for them in case they have to deal with him again.”

Ana gave an affirmative noise, typing as she spoke, “Do you think they have access codes to Lyngvig Lighthouse?”

“I don’t know. But if they have access to Athena or archived data, codes should be there.”

“I wonder if the lighthouse is reachable, given the storms.”

“A little water shouldn’t deter ‘em.” Jack yawned. "If it did I'd be a lot more worried about the new Overwatch."

It had been more than a few storms. The area had been nearly completely wiped out by weather so intense Overwatch had considered abandoning another Ecopoint like they were forced to do with Antarctica. The base being underwater, the damage it had suffered was no small feat to try to repair. In the end days of Overwatch, the base was put into a low power state and left alone to hide underwater. If things were done right, it would still be collecting data.

“Maybe they’ll be lucky and some rain boots were laying around Gibraltar,” Ana replied as she sent the message off.

***

As Angela looked around the lab she and Winston had been updating and repairing, she considered her life, the past few years.

The hour was late, the night weighing on her as she considered where she was, what she was going to do; _where_ it could lead- both good and bad. She had wanted so desperately to hang up the mantle of 'Mercy', finally slip away from that title and heal the memories associated. But even as the years crept towards a decade after that fateful day, the world continued to grasp for her hand; it begged for her help even as it condemned her in the same breath as Overwatch.

They had all faced it: the heavy yolk of the title “Hero”. And so many of them had felt there was no choice but to return and take it up again. How many more would arrive to fight the good fight once more? Was _this_ the good fight they remembered? Her lips drew into a grim line as she opened her phone and looked for her adoptive father’s number.

“Angela, how are you?” Torbjörn’s voice was an odd comfort to her. She could hear Ingrid in the background, a pleasant ‘ _Hello, Angela!_ ’ before Angela returned the greeting through Torbjörn.

“Torbjörn- I’m fine, and you?” She leveled her own voice.

“Getting by,” he said with a heaving sigh. “Retirement’s good, the Guild’s a little too glad to have me on call.”

Angela made an affirming noise after an exhausted chuckle. Torbjörn was patient as she tapped the desk next to her, trying to collect her thoughts. She heard the distinct noise of a ratchet turning, followed by an inquisitive meow from Annabelle, Torbjörn’s maine coon “assistant”.

“I decided to answer the Recall.” She spoke evenly, although she worried what he might say about her decision. He must have received the recall, too, right? There was a thoughtful sound on the other end.

“Aye,” Torbjörn replied slowly. “I got it, too. Don’t think it’s for me. I can’t put Ingrid through that.” Overwatch as it is now is a far cry from what it once was, and even then it was hard to forget Torbjörn’s concerns with the organization- especially towards Reinhardt’s retirement from the line of duty. She couldn’t be ignorant of the pain it caused Reinhardt, but she also knew the man refused any other position in Overwatch, effectively making his retirement complete within the organization. She worried about him when he left. His calls had always been boisterous but like anything with Reinhardt, his tells were between the lines. She knew he’d been lonely.

“I understand. I’m… Questioning my own involvement.” She sighed, pensive in the silence. “It’s where I feel I need to be right now.”

“You seemed confident in your work in Cairo,” Torbjörn said carefully. “I don’t want you on a fool’s errand.”

At one time Overwatch had been a bastion of safety and hope. Now it was but meager remnants; a collection of tenuous threads trying to weave a tapestry far too big for itself. She looked at her desk, the notes she needed to send to Winston about the supplies she'd be ordering. The facilities in Gibraltar were still state-of-the art, but they needed some work after so long of disuse. Her thoughts turned to the two ghosts she'd been reconnected to, then to who and what she wanted to protect, considering _why_ it was only here that she felt whole again.

“I was confident I could help there. But I can’t ignore this.” Torbjörn seemed to sense she had more to say, but didn't press her when she kept it to herself.

“Aye. I trust you to make your own decisions. Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll see what I can do. I’m not getting involved, but I won’t leave you high and dry. Cross your bridges when you reach them.”

“Thank you, I’ll update you when I can. Give Ingrid a hug for me.” He said he would, and she closed her phone. Barely a moment later, it buzzed. She reopened it and looked at the message.

“ _Stay safe. I don’t know if Lyngvig Lighthouse is still in operation or if they finally moved it after those massive storms, but there’s an additional entrance there under the lighthouse. Might be good to try that one if the main entrance can't be accessed. He says to check if you have access to Athena or the archives, see if the access codes are in there.  
He’s requested that if you’re up to it, we can drop by Gibraltar and see if you can sample what’s embedded in his back, research if there’s a way to counter it since it’s been over a week and there’s no progress on healing. It could help you in countering Reaper himself, perhaps. We're open to negotiation on what you'd like in return._”

She frowned in thought. Having them on base, knowing they likely would keep their identities secret made something angry roil in her gut. Emotions turned into a tidal wave, and she closed the phone again.

Anger that they hid, longing to have them back, fear that they would die again, fatigue from everything on her shoulders, anger that they would request such a task, anger at herself for being here again. She wanted to be here, but something so unrelentingly tired begged her the question ‘ _why?_ ’

It took a while, but eventually, she calmed herself. If she let the emotions control her now she didn’t know if she’d ever really recover. Some day she would need to deal with it. But until then, that energy was needed elsewhere.

For now she sent a thank you, added that she would think about the request.

There was still much more work to be done, and she was running low on coffee.

***

_[. . .]  
>connecting. . .  
>>connected!_

_[To: Gje3%iOaa] Hey old timer. Heard you had a brush with death  
[From: Gje3%iOaa] Har har  
[To: Gje3%iOaa] Thought you might be interested to know something  
[From: Gje3%iOaa] What does this something cost  
[To: Gje3%iOaa] Montpellier. There’s a double-crosser there that’s trying to sell off some info I gave him that’s not for sale. Just get a USB from him and take it to a drop off I’ll send you.  
[From: Gje3%iOaa] You let something like that get away from you?  
[To: Gje3%iOaa] I’m only human. In or not?  
[From: Gje3%iOaa] Depends on what your offer is  
[To: Gje3%iOaa] There’s an op in three days. Base setup. Comms creation, supplies, light guard detail, and a big file download. Basically like Christmas for you right?  
. . .  
. . .  
[From: Gje3%iOaa] Deal  
[To: Gje3%iOaa] I’ll send you the location of the op after you get my things back._

“Have you heard from Angela?” Jack felt every rattle of the hypertrain’s car as the sleek locomotive sped along steadily. Ana checked her tablet, shook her head before she resettled against him comfortably. He looked at his own phone as Ana dozed beside him, frowning at the message.

“Well, if we’re heading to Montpellier we’ll be in that direction. Hopefully she’ll reply before then.”

“Are you sure you trust this contact?” Ana’s voice was tired, head resting on his shoulder. He didn’t trust Sombra, no. Not with anything beyond their short-lived collaborations. She had the mind and he had the muscle, but he wasn’t stupid enough to follow her blindly if it could mean his own ass on the line. Even a job like this would require a good amount of scouting to ensure she wasn’t tossing them into a lion’s den.

Trusting a hacker that could topple a government with just a bit of time would be like sticking his head into a bear’s mouth and hoping for the best. But it didn’t mean he would ignore her. Their alliance had been born of coincidence- though he’d become more convinced that those didn't really exist with her; but the alternative was worse. Being sought out by Sombra was indicative of something much more worrisome. It was why he’d gone to great lengths to encrypt the device he carried. While he knew there was no 100% guarantee that he would be safe in using it, being physically apart from her and working with others in her field to make the device more secure at least made him less paranoid about her messages.

“Trust is a strong word, but they haven’t let me down before.” Ana hummed.

“Good to know you still have friends even as a dead man,” she murmured.

“Well, I didn't use death as an excuse to be even more of a hermit,” he replied with a playful wiggle of the shoulder she was leaned on. She couldn’t help the amused noise that escapes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon 1: Basically my idea for Vincent was that he was a botanist working towards his masters in school before he enlisted to help fight in the Crisis. Afterwards, he went back to working on his master's and filled his and Jack's apartment with a million plants that had weird needs.
> 
> Headcanon 2: Jack's Strike-Commander apartment was a nice apartment adjacent to the Zurich headquarters that was built alongside the headquarters to house a good chunk of Overwatch personnel. It wasn't mandatory for anyone to live there but it was a nice place.
> 
> Headcanon 3: Torb and Ingrid adopted Angela officially while she was still in university  
> Headcanon 4: Annabelle, Torb's big maine coon is Tom's headcanon that I fell in love with and can't ever think of him NOT having. The cat from Brig's emote is specifically Brig's cat (That lives with Ingrid and Torb as Brig travels).
> 
> Headcanon 5: Sombra and Jack's partnership was a very slow creation over a few months of helping each other with very small things before. They've never met in person but are familiar enough with each other. Jack doesn't know about any of her connections to Talon.


	3. Hypnagogia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ana move on Jack's contact's tip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Tom and Per for keeping me relatively sane, and betaing things again!
> 
> Relevant TWs:  
> Blood  
> Needles  
> Alcohol mention

_Jack looks like he had been, once- all warm smiles and golden hair greying at the temples. He extends his hand. Reaper- or is it Gabriel?- looks at his own hands, fingers curling reflexively and the blackened tips smoking faintly. He doesn’t take Jack's hand. He doesn’t trust Jack’s lifeless eyes. They aren’t the bright blue they usually are, more like every overblown poster he's been on._

_“Is something wrong?” He looks around, then back to Jack._

_“No,” he says with a grunt. Yes._

_There’s a painful nostalgia that sinks into his gut like a hook and tears him apart as it pulls at his memories of the man before him. He’s gotten so good at suppressing them that when they resurface, he’s woefully unprepared for the emotions that rise up as well._

_Jack’s face splits open suddenly. Blood flows from the wound, and Gabriel presses forth from Reaper, wanting to touch and soothe. He forces himself to stay still as red continues to pour forth, covering most of Jack’s face save one dull blue eye, and then down further to begin coating his duster. He looks too much like a mannequin- a facsimile of himself drenched in blood._

_His hand extends further towards Reaper, but the wraith balks, retracting as though burned._

Consciousness flooded him and his form shuddered with momentary confusion. Sleep wasn’t common, and dreams even rarer. Every time it happened it was disorienting, and now was no different, his mood already more sour than it normally was. He did a once-over of his quarters, seeking anything out of place. When nothing stuck out to him, he left swiftly.

His comms picked up, and Ogundimo gave orders to head to Corsica, France. Remote. He was keenly aware of the mission tied to these apparent dead-end locations, and, at the very least, it would give him something to do. It was never anything terribly hard or strenuous, but just enough that the more capable members of Talon were required. They’d seen what happened when they sent in the grunts: either they were grievously wounded and barely escaped, or Talon found the bodies later.

It was a short trip to the island from Venice. Agitation sat below the surface of his charred skin, but he knew there would be work to do, soon. They knew the signal was coming from here, but it’d take some work to assuredly find the entrance to this newest hiding place. No matter, he could cover ground quickly.

He liked these missions on his own. Widowmaker or Moira he could handle- they were professional and efficient, but Sombra quickly grated on his nerves no matter the situation. She was always looking for an opening, and he had no intention of revealing any weaknesses. In any case, no one asked him for conversation, nor his opinion, nor tried to make aggravating small talk at him like he’d ever engaged in conversation about the weather willingly.

“Reaper.” The comms crackled and he listened wordlessly. “Abort your mission. There’s been an attack on the new base in Perpignan. You’re the closest, go deal with it.”

It was a good thing the transport hadn’t left, yet. But the sudden change did very little for his temperament.

***

“Your contact was right,” Ana murmured. Their smaller mission to find and take down the man who’d stolen from Sombra was a walk in the park compared to some of what they’d done in Cairo. Find a man, scare the shit out of him, take a flash drive, drop it off in Sète, get something to eat and enjoy the sights, then move on.

“You sound incredulous."

“Call me paranoid about a contact that knows insider Talon information.” Jack couldn’t fight her on that; Sombra wasn’t a woman to be trusted. But saying that he was working with someone at the head of a hacker collective didn’t seem the best option, not with Sombra being so secretive herself. He had no plans of doing anything to jeopardize their alliance. He could bend or circle around the truth but outright lying was rarely, if ever, his forte. That, and lying to Ana was the fastest way to a full grave instead of an empty one. She always knew, somehow, or wrangled the truth out of him, and he doubted dying changed that part of their relationship.

“I don’t make contacts lightly,” he settled on after some thought. It was the best way to say it, and not exactly false.

“Mm, Mister social butterfly has learned his lesson, then.” He gave a huff, the noise an undignified chirp through the mask's filters.

“I thought my ability to make friends was my strength back in the day.”

“A little more discretion is always good.” He could hear the smile in her voice despite the mask.

“Paranoia’s the same thing,” he said with some humor. She gave an affirming noise.

“I’ve seen twenty Talon soldiers. No telling if there’s others unless we go inside.”

“Hopefully their alarm system’s not operational, yet,” he mumbled as the visor caught the small shapes moving in and out of the building.

“Knowing our luck, it was the first thing they installed.” She blew air through her teeth as he dropped from his branch, then slipped over the short ridge that led down to the ground level of the base. Settling herself in the foliage they'd shuffled around to make into a sniper's nest, she readied herself and her weapon for the incoming battle.

It was almost too easy between them. Talon very nearly had the numbers, but Jack and Ana had the experience, element of surprise, and skill between them to take on more than was there. Jack was a flurry of motion and no wasted movements; precise, quick, and lethal. With Ana at his back, he was nigh on invincible. She fired into the brawl, swapping expertly between her types of darts with deft fingers, hitting either him or their enemies depending on what her keen eye saw was needed. It made it impossible for the Talon soldiers to focus on just one of them. But the constant fighting meant that when something darted past the super soldier and towards the source of the sniper fire, Jack’s attention remained on the Talon soldiers.

When he stood amidst a pile of dead or unconscious men, he confirmed as much to Ana. But her comms remained silent, immediately making his hackles rise. He darted back towards the small makeshift sniper’s nest, a mix of panic and the forcible calm born from his years as a soldier pumping through his veins.

He found her under one of Talon’s bladed assassins. She was bleeding, barely fending off the blades headed for her throat. He could see her injuries, but also those she'd inflicted on the assassin. Darts were still lodged in the figure’s shoulders, arms, and thighs, and Ana's bloodied combat knife was thrown to the side. Without hesitation, Jack launched himself. His full body weight slammed into the figure and knocked them both over, the bladed attachments too close to his face for his own comfort. When they came to a stop, Jack ended up on top, and her fury directed at him, but left her open to a sleep dart from Ana. Her body abruptly slackened, and Jack stood, brushing himself off. He moved to Ana’s side quickly. The sniper grimaced as she pulled her mask off and removed a dart from the cartridge in her gun.

“Let me see,” he demanded as he took the moment to finally catch his breath. Ana showed the deep gashes in her arms and side where she’d been caught. She jammed the needle of the dart into her thigh with a wince. It would tide her over for now, but she needed stitches, that much was more than clear.

“Did you have a plan or were you just going to throw yourself in and hope for the best?” Her humor was tinged with her pain.

“I had a plan.” He didn’t.

“I will survive. Let’s get what we came for.” Her grunt of effort turned to one of pain when she tried to move, and she was forced to stay still for a moment, adjusting. She could work through it, she had before many times.

“Stay here. I’ll get what I can and we’ll get back to base.” Ana’s expression was displeased, but after a begrudging moment of thought she nodded. She was losing blood, no need to do anything to make her lose more- and especially not over a completed mission. Jack grabbed his duffel bag.

He dropped back down the ridge and took off towards the building again. Rushing through the front door, he looked around the main room. There were doors and corridors around the edges leading to various sections of the base. The layout Sombra had sent him showed the most concentration of supplies down the main hallway and through to a control room where things were being stored temporarily. He moved swiftly, knowing Ana could be found on her own if reinforcements showed up.

In the control room, he made sure to grab what he could- med kits, some ammunition cartridges that could supplement the pulse rifle, and other odds and ends tucked into the duffel bag. He didn't miss the bright red pulsating glow that read out an alarm on every screen. It made him move all the faster-

"You don't know when to stay down." The growl hissed all around him.

Darkness coalesced to his left, and Reaper solidified with both shotguns out. He fired, barely missing Jack as the old soldier ducked swiftly out of the way. A nearby console's electronics came alive, spitting out violent blue sparks. Jack immediately drew his pulse rifle and fired back, though the wraith phased out of the way of the pulse munitions. As he formed back together, he sped towards the soldier, shotguns forgotten for clawed gauntlets, but Jack threw his weight to the side and rolled out of the way.

The Reaper followed immediately, undeterred, and Jack abandoned his rifle in favor of throwing himself at the shadow. The wraith let out a strained noise as Jack’s shoulder connected with his gut and forced him backwards, growled when his back hit the wall. Jack used the moment he was stunned to lock an elbow against Reaper’s neck, but when he raised a fist to strike, Reaper dispersed again, and Jack's weight was thrown off, hitting the wall. Reaper moved with him, stepping solidly behind him and twisting Jack's arm violently against his back. But Jack only threw his head back, slamming into the Reaper's mask and stunning him. He twisted away and used the momentum to drive his fist into Reaper's temple.

His wrist was released and he threw another punch, which struck the white mask, before Reaper drove his knee into Jack's gut and winded him. He swiftly drove an elbow into Jack's head, disorienting him and barely missing the glass of the visor. Jack snarled and twisted himself to deliver a roundhouse, but he hadn’t caught his balance enough. Reaper caught his ankle with a hiss and grunt of effort.

He snapped his palm against the back of Jack's knee, and Jack awkwardly tried to re-center his weight. But Reaper shoved hard and sent him stumbling backwards towards the damaged console. He hit it, barely missing the wild sparks, but the edge of the table bit into his back where the wound sent fresh agony through him. He cried out in pain as the wraith rushed him, his body temporarily frozen in shock. He steeled himself, used Reaper's momentum against him, grabbing and swinging him over and down onto the sparking table. He was rewarded with the howls of rage and anguish that the man emitted as electricity surged through his smoking, crackling form.

Without another thought, Jack grabbed his rifle and bag and bolted through the door. He couldn't waste time here when Ana was still wounded, not even for Gabriel. He wouldn't lose her again. His wound burned with spiteful pain as he pushed himself toward the exit and across the way to the hideout. Ana was there, looking drained, but she perked up when Jack entered. He didn't want to think about how natural it was for her to push aside her own pain for someone else's worries.

"Jack?" She could tell something was amiss and began to move. Both of them knew better than to be idle when the other was moving quickly.

"Gabriel was there," Jack grunted in a clipped tone, helping her pack up before they were out of the hide and moving.

Back on base, they settled down and the focus moved to Ana’s wounds. She had a topical numbing cream, basic painkillers, and some tea as the only aid for the pain as Jack stitched carefully. He’d offered his alcohol to help but she had wrinkled her nose and declined, scrutinizing him in a way he didn't miss. Slow and methodical, his stitches were clean and careful. Not perfect by any means, but he had a steady hand and enough experience with it.

"I'll admit you can sew better than I can," Ana said with tired amusement. She'd lost enough blood that she was too fatigued to stay upright during the stitches. She was currently laid on her side so the tablet could rest against the wall and she could occupy herself while he worked.

"If I can sew my own face, I can sew your arm," he murmured with some humor to match her, but lapsed into silence afterwards. Reaper had the opportunity twice now to strike him dead. He'd had the element of surprise- ruined only by his own words and by aiming non fatally at an unmoving target. Gabriel was not the sharpshooter Jack and Ana were, but he was not a man to miss at point blank range- especially not with a shotgun. The wound in his back was no small thing, but if Reaper had aimed for the head it would have been over. Why miss? Why speak and reveal his position? If Gabriel Reyes hated him and wanted him dead as much as it seemed, why not just end him _without_ giving Jack a chance to retaliate? He wondered if his mind wasn't grasping at straws- asking the question that wanted to be asked since he'd learned who was behind the mask: _Was Gabriel still in there?_

"It's Angela.” Ana’s voice was tired. Her words dragged him out of his reverie, and he could see she was ready to fall asleep at a moment’s notice, but she was focused on the tablet in her hand. He gave a questioning grunt as he tied off another stitch. "She's giving us an offer. Apparently the area around Søndervig is dangerous enough that she's asking for additional help in return for taking samples and attempting to reverse whatever's in your back."

Jack frowned to himself as he began the next stitch. Luckily, it was the last one of the three wounds she'd sustained. Let no one say Ana Amari was a woman who was hampered by her age. She had not made a single complaint since he had begun stitching, and despite the bloodloss she was awake- though he could tell it was wearing on her.

"No," he growled, despite still feeling the sting in his back from the wound. He'd been going shirtless since they'd returned to base. Any kind of pressure or fabric against it caused pain.

"Jack." Her voice was painfully sharp. He had to resist wincing as he tied off that last stitch and cut the thread. He wound bandaging around it, focusing on it instead of the conversation for a moment. There was too much risk of them finding out. And he couldn't face them knowing, judging. What if they were too angry to accept them? What if they were happy to see both of them, but wanted them back when he knew they couldn't do that? Worst of all- what if they simply didn't care? The notion that they could be ambivalent towards him and Ana made his stomach do flips. He closed his eyes and Ana laid a hand on the side of his face. It was a kind gesture. Grounding.

"Your wounds are not healing. We've both been sleeping in so often. And now I am wounded as well. I lost a lot of blood, and without proper care I will only slow us down until I've recovered." Jack couldn't help the somewhat petulant frown on his face.

"I'll think about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ana have a good time but it's not a great time.


	4. Glimpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they consider their options, Jack and Ana find themselves at odds with each other, and Overwatch considers their position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, don't buy Corsair mice, they'll fail 3 months in.
> 
> Thanks as always to Per and Tom for betaing and keeping my spirits up!

_The podium seems taller; the crowd larger, the applause deafening, the sun too bright; all of it seems so much more than he once remembered. Overwatch’s efforts had paid off somewhere, but he can’t remember what this is for. He looks for clues, but finds something else that catches his eye: the woman. She shows up so often that he can't ignore her. She is smiling kindly, intense eyes locked on him and brown hair in an elaborate twist of braids and a bun._

_He moves away from the podium, back to the wings of the stage where the crowd- and that woman- cannot see him._

_But she’s there, standing with a man in a grey tailored suit. He doesn’t remember Petras having an assistant like her. He can’t ignore her even as he speaks with Petras._

_It feels like watching himself, words coming from his lips of their own accord. She writes down everything, attentively asking questions alongside Petras, and he can't for the life of him understand what's being said. As soon as the words leave any of their mouths, he's forgotten what they mean._

_When the conversation ends, she leads him to a door. He opens it, and is greeted with a familiar sight._

_Back in the endless hallways once more. He walks them for a time, only the occasional emblem or crack in the surface to break up the monotony of the plain walls. Finally, he comes to a door. Again, it’s his old apartment. But when he enters this time he doesn’t see Vincent or the woman. Instead, he stands in an apartment he owned as Strike-Commander, in the bold jacket and visor of 76._

_“You don’t know when to stay down.”_

_The fight progresses as it had, destroying their once-shared apartment. But yet again he feels like an observer even as he battles Gabriel. They move fluidly, and, instead of a console, a picture frame erupts into wild sparks. When Jack slams Gabriel into it, his body does not crackle or smoke, but flickers between the Reaper and Gabriel over and over. He reaches for Gabriel, met with the blistering shock of electricity._

“Guardian.”

“Yes, dear,” they murmured absently, though attention remained on the monitor before them.

“I am sequencing the most recent session, and I have found evidence that Mr. Morrison is building a tolerance to the narcotic. His state of awareness was elevated for 2 minutes, 42 seconds. He returned to the preferred state afterwards, but the length of time he is subconsciously aware continues to grow. There was also a point where his mind fixated on recent events, and it corrupts the data we're targeting.”

“That’s to be expected I suppose- especially if he’s adapting. Please contact Nikola and send him the data from the session. He might need to adjust the formula. We have some time, after all. They'll be in transit a while longer."

“I will send Nikola the data. There is a new message from Dr. O’Deorain. Would you like to hear it?”

They stood, stretching and leaving the plush chair for a moment. Too much time spent staring at a screen. That couldn’t be helped, but it was good to move around. Walking away from the desk, they took their phone and settled instead on a chaise lounge, legs stretching along the cushions. Pouring from a wine bottle into a glass on the adjacent table, they sipped from it, and settled further into the plush seating. The dark room was comfortable, most of the light coming from the set of monitors on the wall. A perfect little cove for working. 

“Go ahead. And please alert Ogundimu of our progress from the last session once it’s fully available. I have a feeling that conversation with Director Petras will be important to his current goals.”

“Certainly. Message from: Dr. Moira O’Deorain. Received today at 09:14: _I must say, I’m impressed by your chemist. Nikola's narcotic worked on Reaper, and from our last physical exam, he didn’t seem adversely affected. I suggest spreading out your sessions with Reaper, though, as too many too fast will clue him in. And even if he is not aware of your daughter, I am sure he would quickly take note of her presence. He’s far brighter than Morrison in that regard._

_For the other mission, there is a woman whom I will send to you. She is aware of a databank location but has been uncooperative. We are curious to see how your technology will extract that information, and why she’s protecting it._

_I would also like to request your data on both subject Nemesis and subject Lyssa. I am curious about their states._ ”

They sat back, thoughtful. Offering information on either was undesirable, but Lyssa they could relent on. After all, they weren’t as involved with Lyssa’s care. Nemesis, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

“Message response: I will send you the files on subject Lyssa. She is currently housed at an institution south of Wołowiec in the Carpathian mountains. You can pay a visit if you’d like, but as I understand she is still mostly nonverbal. I will be spreading out my sessions with our Thanatos, but I do have orders that I intend to follow. Your advice has been taken into account. Thank you, dear.”

***

“She shouldn’t be the one dictating how we handle things.” Jack’s voice was filled with contempt.

“We have to make the decision ourselves, but she’s right. It’s unfair of us to expect her to lie to everyone while we ask her to help us.” The deal was for them to help the reestablished Overwatch get into Ecopoint: Søndervig- and inevitably deal with Talon after- in exchange for Angela working to reverse whatever was embedded in Jack’s back, as well as tending further to Ana's wounds. Research, and developing a counteractive agent, would take time and effort. While Angela had the resources and technology at her disposal now, it didn’t mean her job was inherently easier. But she'd told them that she wasn’t comfortable lying to the others and requested they reveal themselves. There was no threat to do so, but it was a genuine request to respect her- and in turn respect their family.

And she was right. It _was_ unfair. But that didn’t make Jack any less obstinate.

“What does it help?” He asked sharply.

“They deserve the truth.”

“As far as I'm concerned, we've earned the right to stay dead. 20 years of everyone knowing our names and faces and shoe sizes- we deserve anonymity.” Ana frowned at him, brows furrowing in her own frustration. She believed it to be right to tell them, no matter the consequences. But that didn’t mean she had no reservations about it- her own demons to face regarding her unplanned absence in their lives. There was still so much she hadn't processed, still so much buried deep within her mind. The pain of knowing that Amélie had been twisted to kill her husband, and had nearly taken Ana's own life. She still had nightmares about it, still felt the pain in her empty socket. Her migraines had calmed over the years, but still came now and again, reminding her so clearly of what she'd lost.

“Why lie to those we love for longer? What is it you fear?” She asked as the railway car rhythmically chugged forward. She wondered if he reflected her own pain, her own fears and doubts.

“I’m _not_ scared, but I don’t see any reason to tell them who we are. What do they get by knowing we’re alive? We aren’t going to be around after Søndervig. We're not joining Overwatch.” He was clamming up further, and she didn’t know if she blamed him. But that didn't mean they should avoid this tough conversation. No, she believed in meeting things head on. She knew he did, too, but this was not so easy a situation to deal with for either of them. But Ana would not relent to the nagging horror in her mind of rejection by those she held most dear.

“It is not what they gain but at the very least two people _they have not lost_. They’re our family. We can’t push them away for fear or pride. You didn’t mind when I told Fareeha."

“You didn’t involve me when you told Fareeha, but I sure as hell gave a damn when you dragged me to Angela even after I told you _‘no’_. And it’s not pride- telling them would just over complicate everything. No one needs to know. Or should we go tell Petras, too- make a worldwide announcement? Just so we cover our bases?” He was being unfair to her and the rest of them, but the thought of talking to them about it and dealing with their reactions- especially those that were negative- made him sick. He’d spent seven years on his own and anonymous. The thought of suddenly being thrust into being known again made him queasy no matter who it was. 76 was a shield for Jack Morrison's struggling psyche. Breaking that away, who knew what could be exposed?

“That’s not the same and you _know it_ , Jack,” Ana snapped. But even her vicious tone couldn't change Jack’s stance. “And I will **not** apologize for taking you to someone who could and did help you.”

“What are you suggesting we say? ‘Whoops, sorry about letting you believe we were dead for nearly a decade. Kinda slipped our minds! All good, right?’ I’m sure they’ll understand all the years of lying before we came clean now.” He scowled. Ana’s sharp eye bored into him but he didn't flinch.

“I am saying that, given the opportunity to tell _our family_ the truth, they deserve that from us. We’ve lied for so long that we’ve become comfortable with it, and have made excuses for ourselves to sleep better at night. But if we are to make a difference, to find out what happened to Overwatch and right those wrongs, then the people we love deserve the utmost truth before the rest of the world.” He faltered, set his jaw. He wanted to stubbornly contest, but at the moment, he had nothing.

Truthfully, he _wanted_ to talk to them. He _wanted_ to have their family back; have that kind of connection with people again after years of knowing only vague, unreliable allies. But the thought of them rejecting him, agreeing with tabloids, or hating him for his decision to hide... It wasn’t fair to make those assumptions, but to him, it was near impossible to consider that they would welcome him with open arms. And the blow to his varying mental health from that kind of rejection would tear him apart- that he was certain of. He wanted to spare himself another reason to drink.

In the end, did he deserve their acceptance?

He decided the best option for now was to say nothing. Ana's lips twitched with the desire to speak again. Ultimately, though, she let the silence go. Neither wanted to be the one to continue the conversation. There was certainly more both could say, but at present, it was an exercise in futility.

At one time, their equal stubbornness was a strength. The two of them would fight for the right thing into the next ice age, if needed, and had in some cases. Breaking through the stubbornness of one was a feat in and of itself- going up against both was outright lunacy.

But it also meant that when they fought it wasn’t pretty. They’d go for days if they thought it necessary. Both thought their arguments through and brought strong stances to a debate. It was no small feat when either did change their mind. Even here, Jack knew she would not let it go- and knew that she shouldn’t- but the petulant part of him, the one terrified of their family’s reactions, wanted her to.

At the very least, he knew they’d talk about it again.

***

“You said you had news for us?” Lena asked from her perch on the back of a chair. The main break room had been fixed up and populated with a television, some seating, and a few old pictures to liven it up. The assembled group patiently paid her and Winston their attention. Lúcio and Mei she’d only formally met recently, though she was familiar with their work. The rest she knew well.

“Winston and I have spoken about the conditions around Ecopoint: Søndervig. There is a Talon hotspot not far from it, and there's expected to be Talon operatives that notice our presence there, as they won't miss one of our transports in their airspace. We’re reasonably sure we can handle things. However, to ensure the success of the mission, we’ve decided to enlist some additional help.” Some apprehension bubbled around the room at the possibilities of who could be called in. “It will also help us to move from the Ecopoint to the Talon base and see if we can remove Talon from the area entirely, as we don’t believe that they will leave Søndervig alone unchecked.”

“Soldier: 76 and the Shrike will be joining us.” Winston spoke with an authority Angela knew didn’t come naturally to him, and she felt a sense of pride at the stern air he maintained in the face of the expected scrutiny. She didn't realize how much tension she'd been holding until it released in small bits when Winston didn't falter.

“How do we know they won’t turn on us?” Brigitte asked with a frown. Angela wished she could give the answer she wanted; to tell them, even Winston, of the identities of the wanted vigilantes. But until they gave the go ahead- as much as she didn’t want to lie to all of them- she knew it would only make things worse to reveal who they were before they arrived. Not to mention she wasn’t about to place that burden on herself.

“Trust me, they’re being paid well by myself, and they’re the most qualified to help. They’re capable, and have too much of a dislike for Talon to pass up being paid to take them down." She smiled gently, trying to imbue them with her own confidence in the pair.

“Seems a bit dangerous to have a pair of vigilantes with bounties on their heads on base. We’re not exactly running a _legal_ operation ourselves, here.” Sojourn shifted her weight as she spoke. She'd been the strike leader for their missions, keeping comms running and lending her expertise to the battlefield.

“I understand the concern, but they have no reason to double cross or compromise us. I met with them in Egypt after a Talon attack near Cairo. They weren’t always helpful, but they did get me out of a bind when they could have left me.” Not that she thought Jack or Ana would have ever done so, but she couldn’t add that now. Too suspicious. Better to at least set them up as aloof, but benevolent should they keep their identities to themselves. Plus, it was true that they weren't always helpful.

There was murmured consideration of her words, of the situation. They trusted her, that much was evident. If they didn’t, they’d have outright denied it. None of them were inherently shy- excepting, of course, Dr. Zhou. Even then, she was no pushover, nor was she an idiot. Angela was reasonably sure that they would cooperate, but she worried about what would happen when the two ghosts landed. Would she truly be forced to lie to her family the entire time, or would they reveal themselves..?

“We will keep an eye on them, but having more allies can never be a bad thing.” Reinhardt’s booming voice filled up the large room easily, regardless of if he was intending as much. “Even if I am sure we would be just fine without them!”

It worked to cut the tension in the room enough that they could lay out the current plan to access Søndervig.

Though she knew her own reaction to the news hadn’t been one of pure joy, knowing they were alive was…. something she was glad for. She had buried so much of her family throughout the years. Having at least two of them return was something she'd dreamed of in the early days as a doctor. She'd made many a joke about it through the years. If she could keep her family with her for the rest of her life, she would do so in a heartbeat. She hoped the rest of them would see it that way as well- even if not all feelings towards what Overwatch had become were positive.

"Angela?" Sojourn's voice always held that quality that made Angela straighten up just a bit.

"Sojourn. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Things.. happened quickly." Sojourn waved a hand.

"It's alright. What happened in Cairo?"

"Talon attacked the area around the A.N.U.B.I.S facility. I tried to get some children out of harm's way, but things collapsed and they helped get me and the children out. They'd been engaging Talon before that as far as I know." She kept her tone light, her expression neutral. Sojourn regarded her, her brows furrowing just so.

"Well, we'll see what happens. So long as they work with us and don't try running off on their own, we should be fine." There was a beat of silence, Angela nodding absently.

"Are you comfortable with how things are, now?" She asked after a moment. A loaded question, she knew, but she felt the same simmering doubt about what they were doing there in Sojourn, even if it was to a lesser degree. She knew many of them felt.. lost without Overwatch. It had been so much of their lives, losing it was like losing a part of themselves. What life could you lead when you were cast equally as hero and villain? In one breath praised for your efforts and strength, and in the next condemned for association. How they were all supposed to feel, she didn't know. But for now, this would have to do. For one, though, she was glad to be with many members of her family.

"As comfortable as I can be." Sojourn crossed her arms, pensive. "Might ask you to look at my prosthetics, though. There's irritation around the connections at the shoulders."

"I can do that." Angela smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon 1: Jack and Ana didn't fight terribly often. Jack, Ana, and Gabe always had very good synergy, but of course no one goes that long without fighting. When they did fight, it was never an affair of namecalling or whatnot, just anger and laying out their points.
> 
> headcanon 2: Ana suffers from occasional migraines due to the nature of her injury. Though they're better, they're not completely gone. Sometimes Jack will try to massage her shoulders to relieve some tension but it's not always perfectly effective.
> 
> headcanon 3: Sojourn was very, very badly wounded in the Fall of the Zurich headquarters. Her arms are both prosthetics below the shoulders and one of her legs is also prosthetic. Her eyes have cybernetic upgrades similar to Ana, and she has spinal stabilizers along her back to manage an injury to her lumbar spine. I would also not hesitate to kill a man for her.


	5. Lucid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set in motion that cannot be reversed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Tom and Per for betaing and helping so much!
> 
> relevant tws:  
> Maybe little a sad. As a treat.

_Jack won't like this._

_He'll never condone the taking of a life in this kind of circumstance, despite the fact that it’s the best option Gabriel can think of. What good is it to imprison someone who'll be released so easily? It's clear he'll continue- how many more lives will his businesses take if he isn’t stopped for good? To trade one life for potentially thousands- isn’t that the important part here? To stop the motions of Talons machinations, the only true solution is to remove cogs, not simply displace them temporarily._

_The world seems to move in slow motion around him. Antonio's voice is like an iron digging into the side of his head. He feels every pulse of blood in his ears like a dull drumbeat and he can imagine how much of that blood is flowing with Moira's mixes and concoctions- all trying to keep his body running despite the illness that consumes him slowly._

_If he dies here- to Antonio, to Talon- he wonders how much life he'll be losing; many years, or a few short months? At this point it's all borrowed time, anyways. But he wants to borrow more. Death is an inevitability. Not something to be feared, but something to be conscious of and reasonable about. He will face it in his time not as a fearful child, but as one who understands that all life comes to one natural conclusion._

_When the shotgun fires, and the window shatters, the building shudders and begins to collapse around them, Athena blaring warnings throughout the base._

Sleep, again. Agitation crawled through him as he sat up and scanned his quarters. His room was untouched, the television playing something he wasn't familiar with. He'd been watching something before he'd suddenly fallen asleep, though he can't remember what… While that wasn't impossible, it was odd and unnerving. Usually, if he ever did sleep, it was a conscious choice. Now, twice, he'd fallen asleep unexpectedly.

"... O'Deorain speaking." Her voice was crisp and clear when she picked up. "What do you need, Gabriel?"

"I fell asleep out of the blue. Again." His voice was harsh. Internally, he regretted it given it was Moira, but she sounded unruffled.

"I take it you're concerned. Have you considered perhaps your run-ins with Morrison are causing some issues? You seem quite stressed." Her voice was clipped, calm, altogether both grating and welcome simultaneously.

"No, that's _not_ affecting me." He tried his damndest to convey the aggressive roll of his eyes through his voice.

"Hm. I wouldn't mind giving you an evaluation despite the time," she replied easily, and Reaper grunted in the affirmative before he hung up abruptly. He checked the clock. 3 am. Which meant he'd been out for roughly 6 hours.

He left his room, his destination, the geneticist's lab.

***

_[From: O'Deorain] Reaper is on his way to me. He is not pleased with sleeping again. As I warned before, he is not one to move too quickly with, especially if you're digging around in anything pertaining to Morrison. His feelings towards his "former" husband can be volatile.  
[To: O'Deorain] If I'm to look into his allegiances, I have little choice but to dig into those memories, darling, but the warning is, as always, appreciated.  
[From: O'Deorain] Oh? Has he been up to extracurricular activities? If there's concern about alliances, I'd be quicker to place my microscope on Sombra.  
[To: O'Deorain] In due time. I'm not the one giving orders, after all. It would be improper of me to go snooping in the memories of people I'm not assigned to. It would make being my friend quite the exercise in lunacy, wouldn't it, dear?  
[From: O'Deorain] Indeed. I'll send you any findings from my appointment with Reaper.  
[To: O'Deorain] Do give our dear Thanatos some reassurance, won't you? And get some rest, darling, you'll wear yourself into nothing.  
[From: O'Deorain] Your concern for my well being is touching. Truly._

***

 _Last chance to run_ , Ana had joked. _Be careful, I might_ , Jack had returned with a bit more animosity than he’d intended. Ana had only wordlessly regarded him.

"I'm glad you two made it in one piece," Angela said as the door slid open. She looked exhausted, reminiscent of the times Ana or Jack would leave late, only to see her still working- Genji at her side occasionally. It was good, given how difficult Genji’s recovery and life as a cyborg were, and how hard Angela worked. Gave them both a respite.

"Despite Ana's attempts otherwise." Ana smacked his arm lightly.

"Oh, no," Angela said flatly, staring into the Shrike's faceplate with a rather unsurprised expression

"An assassin attempted to kill me on a mission. She got a few papercuts in," Ana explained with an appropriate amount of humor lingering in her voice.

"34 stitches in total," Jack countered. "She lost a lot of blood. I'd say it still needs attention."

"I can do that. First, we’ll get you to your quarters." She regarded Ana before she turned on her heel and briskly reentered the base, door open for the two to follow. Jack looked to Ana, but she shook her head. She walked into the building and he tightened his grasp on the handle of his bag.

“Who all answered the Recall?” Ana asked as they walked.

“Right now it’s myself, Sojourn, Lena, Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou from Ecopoint: Antarctica, Echo, Reinhardt and Brigitte, the DJ Lúcio joined after an operation in Rio de Janeiro, and Genji.”

There was a shared look between the two at Reinhardt’s name, but they remained silent.

They entered the main room, taking a look around briefly. Winston's capsule hung from the ceiling, and there was a broken window in the observation deck, but otherwise the room had been cleaned up well. A clean, controlled, and useful space that served to make for an intimidating sight to a potential newcomer. The technology still looked well and intact, and the maps were lit up with the various Ecopoints, Søndervig highlighted.

The three of them moved through the room and down a hallway toward the residential quarters. Angela put them in rooms across from each other and told them she would let them get settled for the night. It was too late to have a meeting, now. Before she left, however, she addressed them both, offering a final entreaty to let the others know who they were in the morning’s meeting. After that, she left, and the two disappeared into their rooms.

Ana came to his quarters later, knocking until he opened the door. She smelled like she'd just showered, and he hadn't passed up the opportunity either. The ability to take a long time to cleanse themselves of the world's grit was not a luxury they'd pass up. One of the upsides to the situation, at least.

"Have you made your decision?" There was no doubt about what she meant. She moved past him, removing her mask and cowl and setting them on the table. Her stern demeanor was betrayed by her restlessness. It was one of very few tells that she felt some anxiety. Frowning, he leaned on the wall by the door and crossed his arms.

"I don't know," he mumbled after a moment. “It still feels like it’ll change too much, and not accomplish anything- except making them resent us. We stayed dead for how many years now?”

“All the more reason to tell them. There is no point in lying to them for more years if we can be upfront with them here and now. What will you do if you bring down Talon and clear Overwatch’s name? Will we tell them first and reveal who we are, then? They will only resent us more when they realize how close we were to them while keeping silent. We put them at the same level as the rest of the world when they're our _family_.”

“Angela didn’t seem too pleased.” The scar across his lips pulled when he frowned deeper. “We have a mission that could kill us. If they find out who we are and we die again, what've they gained? And what if they ask us to stay with this new Overwatch? Our mission is too important- _that's_ what matters right now.”

“They will have gained what time they did have with us. They will have gained the confidence that we as Shrike and 76 were fighting for the right reasons- that even to the end _Jack Morrison and Ana Amari_ fought for the right thing. We will have gained our family and allies back. And if they ask us to stay, have either of us ever been the type to be dragged around? Even by the people we love?”

“Reinhardt’s here.” He regretted it the moment it escaped his lips. He had said it with a cavalier tone, but the implication and the complicated situation therein were not to be spoken of lightly. He knew that. He was running out of ground to argue on and he'd swung out wildly to save himself. In doing so, he'd only tipped himself over the edge.

Ana’s body language tightened and her eye hardened on him. It was a low blow, and the ensuing silence meant that Ana was no longer in a calm debating mood.

“Jack, I did _not_ join you just because I had nothing better to do and no one better to spend my time with. I did _not_ join you because I was bored. I joined you because **I** believe just as much as you do that Talon needs to be destroyed. **I** need this, too. Don’t presume that my oaths are so easily broken just because Reinhardt is here, or because of anything else you’ve wrapped yourself up in inside your own head. I will _not_ abandon this cause. Not for Fareeha, or for Reinhardt, or for anyone else.”

He stayed quiet after, ashamed of his words, of the unspoken suggestion. Ana's gaze unflinchingly burned him even as he averted his eyes. No matter her age, no matter the sallow shade to her cheeks due to her wounds, Ana Amari was not a woman to insult. And now, she was clearly no longer ready to bargain with him. She was angry, and he deserved that anger.

"... I'm sorry," he began. She didn't speak, waiting. He took a breath, exhaled through his nose. "I shouldn't have insinuated that- it wasn't fair of me."

He heard her adjust her position, but she let the silence hang. She knew there was more, and she wasn't giving him any space to hem and haw around what he needed to say. He set his jaw, tried to buy himself time as he thought of what to say to her.

"... I _am_ scared," he finally admitted. He still didn't look at her, focused on old pieces of tape on the wall that had once held something there. "I'm scared they'll agree with everyone else that I failed them. I know that I feel I did. And I don't… know if I can handle that kind of reaction. I'm not trying to uncover what happened for thanks or a parade; I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do- you and I and all of them deserve _better_ than to be remembered as criminals. But the idea of possibly finding out the truth, then being left with nothing for the rest of our lives afterwards because of this decision…" he trailed off, head moving to rest against the wall as his gaze moved back to the ground.

Ana watched him quietly, her expression softening as she looked then to the old duffel on the ground by the night stand, the side still scratched up from where they'd scoured his name from it a month ago. Neither of them had been changed that much by death. Neither of them chose this life. In some ways it was freeing to not have the microscope of the public eye on them, but it also meant their lives were dictated by scraping by at the edges of a society that had once held them so high on glistening pedestals of gold. Falling that far would never be easy.

"I'm not asking this of either of us lightly, Jack." Her voice was quieter, no longer carrying that razor edge. There was a tremulous quality to it that made something painful stir in his heart. She so rarely allowed softness or vulnerability "I'm frightened, too. But I miss our family, Jack. They're _this_ close, and I feel we will forever kick ourselves if we let this opportunity pass us. If they are angry, let them feel that anger. We will weather it together. _But we should allow them the chance to decide how they feel_."

Jack finally looked at her, at a face so shaped and molded by conflict. Ana Amari's life was one filled with turmoil and taking care of others before herself. She fought and died to protect her family, those she loved, those she didn't even know; and the world remembered her rightly as such. It made those requests she made for herself all the more poignant. To finally allow someone to know her own wants was a trust he wouldn't betray now. He pushed off the wall to move to her, and when his arms lifted to wrap around her, her arms did the same to him. Her head came to rest against his chest, and his against her hair.

"I'm sorry, Ana... You're right."

***

. . . . . [ACCESSING] . . . . .  
.  
. .  
. . .  
[ AI PERSONALITY “ATHENA” OFFLINE ]  
. . .  
[ CORE FUNCTIONALITY INTACT ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ana's got a good head on her shoulders. She's kind of like if Jack wasn't such a punchy himbo.


	6. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are said that should not be taken back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No relevant tws, thanks again to Tom and Per!
> 
> New ship note: Anahardt has entered the battle

_The lab in Overwatch’s headquarters is smaller than she remembers- or perhaps that’s to do with the amount of work filling each surface. Notes are piled along the walls with illegible handwriting. Valkyrie prototypes hang from racks, drape over tables, and sit along the floor. Exposed wiring pokes out from some, the skeletons of others like haunting memories of ambitions she's had to abandon in favor of practicality._

_She looks up from a note as the door opens._

_“New postdoc, as ordered, Dr. Ziegler.” Angela doesn’t know her, though she feels… familiar. She knows all her postdocs, tries to memorize some credentials, but nothing comes up for this intense-eyed woman. Angela can’t bring herself to eject her, though. No, she needs all the help she can get, right? Postdocs are valuable, and if Overwatch sends them, they usually aren’t slackers._

_“I take it you know why you’re here?” She asks, pressing the note to her chest as though to guard it- though she isn’t quite sure what’s on it, or why she wants to keep it from new help._

_“I’m assisting with the Valkyrie while Lieutenant Torbjörn is out of town.” Angela nods. Where is Torbjörn headed?_

_They lapse into the work, Angela picking through the suits laid about. When had she become so disorganized? All these prototypes laying around… And why is the new postdoc- what’s her name?_

_Odd..._

“Angela?” Ana’s concerned expression greeted her as she awoke, and she looked around. The Gibraltar lab was still dim around them. She rubbed her eyes.

“What time is it?” she mumbled drowsily as she rubbed at her neck next. Ana and Jack were there, dressed as Shrike and 76- though their masks were off temporarily.

“0800,” Jack supplied, pushing his phone back into his pocket. “Do you usually sleep in the lab?” She frowned in reply, and Jack cocked an eyebrow at her in return.

“I wasn’t meaning to sleep.” She stretched, trying to get the kinks out of her back and mobilize her stiff limbs. Sometimes she had fallen asleep in the labs on a couch or a more comfortable reclining chair, but rarely- if ever- sitting with half-finished notes. She looked around at the lab, how different it was from the dream... Some things were out of place, and she had half a mind to gripe at the pair about rooting through her things, but at the moment she just wanted coffee. The rest of that dream was fading fast from her memory, and she was ready to just let it go. But she jotted down some details and set the scrap of note in her pocket for safekeeping- though she noted her favorite pen missing.

“It seems there’s an issue. Athena has been offline all morning, and Winston is working to get her back online. Did you notice anything odd before you fell asleep?” Ana’s arms were crossed, though her body language was otherwise relaxed.

Angela tried to think, wracking her brain for anything related to the system. But she realized she didn’t remember much after leaving the hallway where Jack and Ana’s rooms were. She made a face, and it wasn’t until Jack called her name again that she shook her head to clear the mental fog. Just _how_ tired had she been last night? Perhaps it was partially due to the pair watching her now, and partially due to the situation itself.

“I don’t remember." She exhaled, an odd agitation building.

“Are you alright, Angela?” Ana asked gently, her expression full of an oh-so-familiar concern. Angela nodded stiffly.

“I had an odd dream last night. I’ll be fine.” She caught the furrow of Jack’s brows as she spoke and made a mental note of it but left it there for now. Instead, she shooed them off and told them to head to the mission room for the meeting, and that she’d join them momentarily.

***

The main room they'd passed through before was now filled with bodies, and despite the room's relative size, it felt crowded. Reinhardt, Lena, Sojourn, Genji, Brigitte, Echo, and Winston, they knew well. Mei they knew from Ecopoint: Antarctica reports (and they enjoyed her journals of her travels these days), and Lúcio was a new face, but they were familiar with the revolutionary. Hard to miss news about him, and they were at the very least interested with and impressed by the man's work. Neither preferred his music, but there was no doubting the talent.

Most of them were people Overwatch brought in with the promise of a better future. They too were the people that had been failed by that same organization. Both Ana and Jack had stood in front of crowds of many sizes, but standing in front of family, knowing how wrong things could go, was something else entirely.

Even as Winston worked on Athena’s systems, the group remained focused on them, suspicious and wary of two heretofore unknown elements. As they should be, Ana thought as she looked into the faces so changed by recent events. None of them had escaped Overwatch unscathed. Each agent bore wounds both seen and not. When her gaze settled on Reinhardt, she felt a quiet pain when she saw suspicion in his gaze. There was no malice there, but he did not look at her fondly as he once had, of course. Despite knowing it was because he couldn’t know what was under the mask, it still ached to not see love in his eyes. She wondered if they would look upon her favorably when she revealed herself; or would they lose that forever?

Angela finally joined them. She immediately went into the mission summary, covering the very basics and expression Sojourn would be following up before she ended her speech with the vigilantes' roles before turning the floor over to them formally. As Jack scanned the room and stared back at them in the awkward silence, he couldn't help the hesitation- or the impulse to run. His lips felt glued together- his mind felt trapped in static that kept his thoughts jumbled.

He heard the clamps release on Ana's mask and his head turned just enough to watch her. She halted for a second, and in the pause, he saw evidence of every word spoken the night before. She was just as unsure, just as frightened of rejection from their family, knowing the pain it would cause her to be turned away by those whom she held so sacred. But she took it off, brushing her hood back and out of the way. The Shrike receded, and for the first time in almost a decade, Ana Amari stared at her family.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet, but steady, and carried a whisper of sorrow that sank into the room as they processed the woman before them. "For not coming back sooner."

When his hands moved, it felt like it was of their own accord. Fingers fumbled with latches that he’d opened a thousand times with ease. When they released, he hesitated as she had, and then the red filter over the room was gone and he stared at them bare-faced. His words stuck in his throat even as his mind tried to force them out. He swallowed instead, and his eyes roved around the room; at each face he remembered, and those he did not. Anxiety roiled into a nauseating pitch in his gut as the silence hung, and he couldn't tell if he appreciated it, or if it made everything worse. Winston had stopped working on Athena for a moment, though he could hear electronics around the room blink and emit noises to alert them that things were changing in the system.

Reactions ranged from anger to hurt and confusion to something unidentifiable in Reinhardt’s gaze as he openly gawked at Ana. He hadn't once taken his eye off her own. The world remained frozen for a moment more before he was the first to move, walking to Ana and taking her into his arms. Her own arms moved to avoid being crushed and he could hear her murmur about her wounds, but Reinhardt didn’t reply. It was clear from the gentle shift of his shoulders that he was crying. Her hands moved to rest one across his back, the other atop his head.

“What happened?” Sojourn’s tone was unreadable, and her expression was hard, but not cruel. There was something like frustration there, but he could see the gears turning in her head, compartmentalizing the situation and planning her response. She excelled in analyzing a situation, making a plan, and executing it. Here was no different.

“I was attacked by Widowmaker on the mission in Poland." Ana spoke first, her voice somewhat muffled by Reinhardt's shoulder. "I lost my memory, and by the time I had recovered it, Overwatch had been disbanded and the PETRAS Act was being implemented…"

Ana had ever been one of the strongest people Jack knew. But he remembered one of the few conversations they had about her memories. She had spoken confidently, but the way she'd leaned on him and her tone told him that perhaps she was still processing much of the past few years; the pain she’d suffered as she regained what she’d lost, only to realize she had nothing to return to. _'It was like waking from a dream. I knew who I was, but I had no clue what happened during the mission. When I finished processing everything… I felt… lost. My life’s work was gone, so many were dead, and I had no idea as to why. I felt, then, that I could only do what I thought to be best.'_ He remembered her stillness as she spoke, adding later that when she had gotten her bearings, she knew Jack and Gabriel wouldn’t have died. She reiterated how stubborn they were, though he saw that as in an attempt to deflect some of those unspoken emotions. But even now, her memory hadn't fully recovered in some ways- she still had blank spots. He was familiar with that, at least.

“After everything that happened, I needed time. There was a doctor who looked out for me, helped me remain in hiding while I recovered. I had convinced myself I could leave the fight, tell you all when I thought it was right.” She paused, shook her head, and shifted with Reinhardt as the man slipped to his knees, settling on his lap as his head remained buried against her shoulder. Her fingers gently brushed through his silver hair, expression mournful. “But I decided I could not stand by while my home suffered from Overwatch's decisions, and I moved to Egypt to do what I could. Jack found me there, and we agreed to move on leads pertaining to the explosion in Zurich after we dealt with a situation in Cairo.”

In just a short amount of time, Ana had been able to give them most of the pertinent information in a digestible way. Jack could feel the atmosphere in the room turn from suffocating to pensive. He realized attention had shifted to him, and his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth again. An old impulse to sign, let his hands do the talking, resurfaced and he gripped his mask with both hands for a moment in an effort to keep them still.

"I don't remember much about the destruction of headquarters, or some of the time right after." He shifted uncomfortably. "I remember being angry. Stitched myself up and tried to find out as much as possible. Promised myself that I wouldn't let everyone down; that I'd find out what happened, expose the people behind it. It... felt like telling you all that there was a conspiracy to destroy Overwatch without any hard proof would just look like an excuse."

The room stretched into more protracted, awkward silence. Lena broke it, standing up from where she'd been perched.

"I.. need a moment, loves…" she murmured, clearly trying to keep up a semblance of a nervous smile as she walked out of the room.

"We don't begrudge your reactions," Ana began. "But we didn’t do this with the intention of hurting any of you."

"... What's your plan now?" Sojourn's expression had not yet softened, her brows furrowing now and again.

"We'll help you with Søndervig in exchange for Angela's help with some injuries." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "After that, we’re intending to continue on our leads."

"You don't want to stay with us?" Winston's expression was… mixed- trying to understand and process everything he'd been given.

"We don't think that'd be a good idea." Ana spoke carefully. "This isn't our fight anymore. I don’t believe it's our calling to be here permanently- not right now. Our mission resides in finding out what happened to Overwatch. Those answers are too important."

"... Does Fareeha know?" Brigitte seemed to have coped with the information well enough, and had taken a position nearer to Reinhardt. She didn't intrude, mostly seeming more comfortable being where she could support the older man, a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were laser focused on Jack, and he realized what a far cry she was from the young girl excitedly visiting her father’s workshop on base.

"I messaged her before we left Cairo. I haven’t received any reply, but she knows." Ana hadn't stopped the gentle combing of her fingers through Reinhardt's hair. It seemed to be as much for her as it was for the Knight.

"I apologize for not telling you all sooner, but I felt it better if they told you themselves." Angela sat with her hands clasped in her lap. The chair was comfortable, and the room was not loud, but anxiety still seemed to blanket her, along with her fatigue.

"Thank you, Angela," Jack murmured. The room lapsed into silence once more, trying to figure out their next moves.

"What’s the nature of your injuries?" Genji asked. He stood next to Lúcio, the DJ looking like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. His leg bounced up and down, his arms crossed over his chest, his fingers tapped on his biceps. The vibrant strands that extended from his ponytail sat over his shoulders like a bright distraction. It was hard to ignore him, and it was only then that Jack heard the music Lúcio had been playing. Gentle, barely heard above the hum of electronics around them as Athena awoke slowly. It was calming.

"I was attacked by a Talon assassin. I lost quite a bit of blood before we stopped her.”

"I was attacked by Reaper. He fired some kind of material into my back that blocks nanotech and my enhanced healing." He needed to tell them about Gabriel. He knew it was the right thing. But part of him didn’t want to yet. They were all processing so much right now- and so were he and Ana.

"He attacked here not long ago, too," Winston chimed in, still seeming unsure of how to react. "Right before I initiated the recall, he tried to use some device to hack Athena. She and I suspect he's targeting old Overwatch agents, but we can't be sure."

"You should know the truth about Reaper as well." Ana took a moment to gather herself, looking up to Jack.

"He's Reyes," Jack admitted after a beat of silence. He always believed in the necessity of being eye-level with the audience, but right now he wanted to look at anything but them. "We don't know what happened to him, or what he's doing, or why."

Knowing it and speaking it aloud to Ana was one thing. But saying it to a room full of people who had loved him and his husband, who had themselves given everything to Overwatch, was something that made his knees weak and his mind grow fuzzy and unfocused. Processing all the information available, all the emotions associated. He wondered at what point had they been set on these paths?

He'd once considered fate romantic. But it took little to realize fate had no consideration for his plans and cared little for romantics. Indiscriminately, it had given him Vincent, only for them to split apart. Then, it brought him and Gabriel together, but struck Gabriel ill; gave them the tools to build Overwatch, then destroyed everything they had created- only then to have them meet on opposite sides of the battlefield. His mind drifted to their fights- to Gabriel’s voice before each time he attacked, giving him time to react, to retaliate--

"Jack?" It was Angela's voice. He blinked a few times, the world coming back into focus, and he looked around the room. Confusion and pain tinted many expressions, others unsure of what to feel.

"That's… a lot of people that were supposedly dead but aren't- including you, Doctor Zhou," Winston’s voice was uneven, and Jack could tell he was uncomfortable and overwhelmed. His gaze traveled to Mei, then, and she looked at her hands, expression sorrowful.

As people fought internally on what to say with all the new information, he noted Sojourn seeing herself out, only offering Winston a nod as she left. Ana was still with Reinhardt, and Jack tried to keep his thoughts from drifting again.

"I think, at this point, it would be good to give ourselves a bit of time before we get to the mission. We can take a break and decide to reconvene here later." Angela’s voice was calm, but was easily heard throughout the room, and seemed to pop the tension like a bubble.

An agreement was murmured amongst those there and Jack tried to get his thoughts in order, scanning the room in the meantime. Ana didn't move from where she was with Reinhardt. There was the hint of a conversation between them that he couldn't hear. Genji had moved to Angela, another quiet conversation as she leaned against his side. Lúcio had picked up talking with Mei, and he spotted Echo moving next to Winston, comfortable with the gorilla as he worked on Athena.

There was something that crawled under his skin, a discomfort that wouldn't leave him be. He wanted to check in with Lena and Sojourn- Lena seemed upset, and Sojourn was still mostly unreadable. There was something in his bones that asked him to justify himself. But the rest of him screamed not to, to remember Ana's words, to _allow them the chance to decide how they feel_.

He knew that he himself couldn’t apologize for his actions, for desiring to remain anonymous. Even if he agreed with Ana- he wouldn’t have done this otherwise- he didn’t necessarily feel _wrong_ for his decisions. He’d done what he thought to be right. And he would do it again if he were to be presented with a similar scenario.

He left the room quietly, a hand on Ana’s shoulder the only warning he gave. She met his gaze before he left and offered a nod as he slipped out.

Outside, he felt like he could breathe, and rested against the door for a moment. Quiet.

He found Sojourn not too far from the doors, and she watched him as he approached.

“Never know what to say at funerals,” she said, gaze fixating back out on the sea. “Always felt too corny or too sappy. Never really assumed it’d be because the person might not actually be dead.”

There was no malice in her voice, and his initial assumption that she was angry shifted as he realized it was more frustration and confusion. He wondered, as ever, what was happening in her mind. But he felt it would be worse to ask as much of her right now. He offered her a mute nod.

“Guess I should’ve seen it coming.” Her voice held a note of sarcastic amusement. Jack let the silence hang as his mind ran a mile a minute, and he walked to stand next to her fully.

“Don’t know what to tell you. I know it can’t have been easy after Overwatch fell.” Sojourn shrugged, looking down at her hands.

“Spent a few years in recovery. Worked with Ziegler and then other doctors. Learning how to walk again wasn’t fun. Struggled a lot with not being able to do what I used to- took up teaching a self defense class in Toronto to try to help, but… Never felt _right_. Got the Recall and it felt like the only thing I’ve really _wanted_ in the years since Zurich.” Jack nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say- if it would be appropriate to speak. He was saved from that when the door opened a ways behind them.

“Athena’s back online,” Genji said just loud enough for them to hear. Jack looked around, wondering if Lena would join, but she was still nowhere to be seen.

When they reentered, the room seemed more relaxed. Reinhardt and Ana hadn't yet moved, but the rest had spread out, some around Ana, some around Angela, and some keeping to themselves elsewhere.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Winston asked as he continued typing away.

“Systems went down at 21:26 last night. Surveillance was cut off 10 seconds before that. I am running a recovery to try to understand the extent of the shutdown, and any potential sources. Communications and primary functions seem to be intact, and I will be scanning both to see if there is any data that will show us what happened."

"So there's nothing on the base cameras?" Winston put a panel back on the wall that he'd removed previously.

"There is currently 10 hours, 34 minutes of footage missing from last night." The room seemed to take a moment to process the information, the implications of that missing footage.

The next hour was spent getting information from Athena, the inhabitants of the base doing a thorough check of the many nooks and crannies of the Watchpoint before agreeing to reconvene back in the main room. However, Jack grabbed Angela's attention before entering.

"Doc. This might sound weird but this morning, you mentioned a... Dream. An odd one." Angela gave him a perplexed look. "When we found you in the lab."

"Well, yes. But I'm not quite sure what that has to do with anything."

"It's not really relevant to what's happening now. Do you remember anything about it?" Angela pulled the slip of paper from her pocket, and handed it to Jack, who furrowed his brows. _'Bunch of Valkyrie suits, bad handwriting? (:P), odd postdoc check files for her?.'_ He frowned slightly. "Anything about a... maze?"

"No, Jack. Are you alright?" He frowned and she wondered if there wasn't something she seriously misjudged about his mental state. The back of her hand rested against his forehead. It made her curious about the blow that had resulted in the large scar bisecting his face. His expression couldn't seem to settle as he read over the note again, and she pulled her hand back when she was satisfied he wasn't feverish.

"I'm fine. Just so I don't get stuck thinking about this later, the postdoc. Do you remember what she looked like?" Angela sighed and rubbed at her forehead in thought.

"Well... Tanned skin, very dark brown hair. Wavy, I think. She had very... fierce eyes."

"Were they a hazel color?" Angela's brows furrowed, eyes locking onto Jack's. "And she just... appeared. And you have no clue who she is?"

"I- well. Dreams are hard to pinpoint, Jack. I remember most of my postdocs but there were many names I can't really match faces to."

"So you don't know her. But she appeared and she was familiar with you." Angela's frown deepened. "Just stick with me for a sec, doc. Was this the first dream you've had with her there?"

"Yes. Jack, could you give me some idea what you're getting at?" She couldn't help the fluttering, unnerving feeling in her gut. The look in his eye was sharp, bordering on the feverish way she'd seen him speak in Cairo.

"I've been having these dreams for a bit now. Comes once every... week or so, I think. I only remember snippets, but the ones I do there's always some maze and _that_ woman. I've never met her that I can remember. But it's her. Really thick dark brown hair, tanned skin, and intense hazel eyes- she always shows up and _seems familiar_ , but neither of us knows her." She couldn't tell if this truly was a remarkable event in which they dreamed of the same woman or if Jack was starting to lose his grip on sanity. She took the note back, rereading it like that would give her answers. He didn't seem manic, but she could tell this truly bothered him. If anything, _that_ would spur her on to consider something odd afoot.

"We should talk about it more this evening. Hopefully things have settled down by then." There was a measure of relief in the shift of his shoulders, but he nodded, and they re entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack's a specialist in The Rock eyebrow.
> 
> Also headcanon for Jack's signing is that Jack's mother was deaf and he grew up on a somewhat isolated farm, so he basically learned and used ASL for the first years of his life and only started speaking when he entered school. When he's agitated/upset, he often will resort to signing if it's around people he knows can use ASL.


	7. Circadian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart for so long. If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can be together all the time.” ― A.A. Milne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Per and Tom again!
> 
> Relevant TWs:  
> needles  
> wounds

_He stares up, brows furrowing. It looks like a pile of junk stacked towards the black swirling mist above- an edifice of shit he only recognizes when he focuses on smaller details in the makeshift wall. Old weaponry, scraps of metal, torn papers, bits and splinters of wood, fabric remnants, shattered coffee cups, bent rebar, broken pens, and so much else is crammed from wall to wall of the hallway._

_If there's another way, he doesn't know it, but he wants **this** to move. He doesn't like the unnamable feelings it stirs within him._

_He reaches towards the hoard of junk, tries to find anything that will budge. His hand sinks into it a few inches; though, curiously, he doesn't feel any pain from all of the sharp edges no doubt buried within.  
When he withdraws his hand, he pauses. There's a band on his ring finger. He hasn't seen it since…_

_He hasn't seen it since the fall of Overwatch's headquarters; concrete and metal pouring down around him, the screams of dying men and women, the alerts from Athena calling for evacuation- the explosion that went off far too close._

_Jack's voice, calling his name through smoke and fire…_

Asleep. Again; and even more, dreaming about- well, he was more angry at the feelings it stirred rather than the content. Each time, he told himself he wasn’t affected by what was stirred up in those dreams. He’d never admit to lying to himself. In truth, though, it brought up a litany of feelings he thought he’d quashed years ago. 

“O’Deorain speaking. What do you need, Gabriel?” Her voice instilled some sense of reality, but she seemed too much like she was expecting his call- though he didn’t know if that was just paranoia and the lingering fatigue.

“There’s been no change in what we're doing, why am I suddenly falling asleep?” He didn’t make the effort to hide the annoyance in his voice, though he kept any comments about the dream to himself. She paused for just a second too long, and something twisted in his gut.

Did she know?

“We don’t know all of the long-term side effects of treatments. We haven’t been in charted waters for years, Gabriel, the unexpected is bound to happen. We’ve known this since we began. If you’d like, I could perform a physical and analyse--”

“I’m busy,” he snapped, and ended the call. She didn’t deserve that. She was one of the few most reliable people in Talon- given all the backstabbing that happened in regular intervals after Doomfist returned. Everyone wanted to be at the top next to Ogundimu, and too few had enough love for fellow agents to not throw them under the bus to get there. He couldn’t afford to do that, but at the moment, his mind was a warped prism- roiling and churning with conspiracy and frustration. The lack of new orders was beginning to make him paranoid about everything else.

"Reaper." Speak of the devil.

"Here," he grunted.

"Our eyes on Søndervig have told us Overwatch is on the move. You'll be accompanying troops there. I _can_ count on you to remove Morrison and Amari, can't I?" His tone made Reaper sneer noiselessly to himself.

"Of course," he growled. Ogundimu ended the call.

***

The orca was a bulky, steady craft compared to more recent jets, but it was still a capable transport. The interior seemed like a time capsule of old artifacts from each of those who rode it most, and Jack felt something twinge in his chest when he looked at his old dog tags dangling from the hook behind his seat. He had wondered where they were, years ago, but assumed them lost in the destruction of the Zurich base.

He sat in his old seat and felt an odd sensation flutter throughout his nerves. Deja vu, combined with the odd dreams recently, made him feel like a stranger in his own skin.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Angela moved to sit down next to him.

“Fine. You?” She shrugged.

“I slept alright last night. No more odd dreams. Did you talk to Ana about this?” He rubbed his neck.

“No, not yet, but we've both experienced sudden bouts of long sleep. I knew the dreams were odd, just figured it wasn’t anything of note before you mentioned yours. Just thought I was being paranoid when I thought about it. Mostly expected you to say it was weird and that'd be that." That, and Ana had spent the night with Reinhardt. He didn't begrudge them that. Angela nodded.

"I tried to remember more of the dream, but I couldn't. I looked back in Athena’s database for my postdocs, but I didn’t find anything. I even had her call up profiles for those that interviewed but didn't get hired. No one who worked in the lab during any of Torbjörn's leaves matches even the broadest description."

He sat back, crossing his arms and frowning.

"She definitely wasn't the priest at my wedding either, and she's never been to my apartment."

"Maybe we could look at one of those dream interpretation books," Angela said with a grin. Jack gave a bemused scoff.

"Call up a psychic, too. Wanna know if my star sign aligns enough for me to drink caffeinated coffee." It was Angela's turn to stifle a chuckle.

"There's more behind interpreting dreams than star signs,” she noted, but he could see the mirth in her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand. But he sighed, eyes drifting as he thought about the dreams- at least the parts he remembered. “It seems significant, but I can’t imagine how. Both dreaming of the same woman that we don’t know but feels familiar?”

Angela’s expression soured as she thought, and she shifted in her seat.

“We have time to figure it out.” Jack nodded in reply.

The transport continued its journey for the most part unbothered, but Lena was quick to alert those in the cabin that Talon crafts had been spotted, and were likely gearing up for an attack as soon as they landed.

“We’ll split into two teams.” Sojourn turned from the monitor she had been working on. “I want Mei and Winston to go inside Søndervig and collect the necessary data. We've got a few hours during low tide before the entrance goes back underwater and it'll be about 7 or 8 hours before it'll be open again.

“I think I should go with them,” Ana interjected. She could see the concern in Reinhardt's eyes over Sojourn's shoulder, and refocused on Sojourn. “I should be able to help with any access issues, and I think it would be wise to have a full team in there should the worst happen.”

Sojourn nodded, “Go with that group, then. The rest of us are going to concentrate on keeping Talon at bay. The area around the Lighthouse is abandoned, so there’s plenty of places for them to hide. If we move in groups, we should be fine. Genji, Angela, and Echo, I want you to take the high ground when possible. Keep an eye out, and alert us if you see any snipers. Lúcio, Brigitte, Reinhardt, Lena, Jack, and I will stay low ground.”

A map of the area around the lighthouse showed on the monitor behind her, giving a good idea of the type of landscape they were dealing with. There had been a city growing rapidly around Lyngvig that was abandoned after intensifying storms came through the area. Even looking outside when the transport touched down, the base of the lighthouse was almost touching the water, and the buildings around the area were only partially standing in what was now nearly a marshland. The homes had been newer at the time of the first major storm, and Overwatch had been part of the efforts to evacuate people and relocate them when the area was considered too unstable to live on. It was only a year later that most of the area was drowned. And, in the time since, nature had done it's very best to reclaim the area.

"Did we see where Talon touched down?" Jack asked, visor scanning the surrounding areas. They remained closer to the transport when the team was heading into the lighthouse, then spread out after, looking to keep the area secured.

"No, but I don't think they left." Soujorn's voice was quieter, her eyes on the treeline around the broken homes. A possible escape route, perhaps. Jack grunted at that, trying to find any kind of signature he could lock onto.

Talon fell on them like a hawk. Snipers kept those atop the homes pinned, until finally they found an opening to drop back to the ground when Reinhardt shielded the group as they retreated to a safer spot. After that, the forces around them didn't entirely seem to know where they were, but gunfire started hitting the brickwork around them. From Angela and Genji's hurried report, Talon soldiers were fanning out and encircling the area.

"We need to clear a direction to move through so we can keep them from trapping us!" Sojourn commanded, her voice rising just above the sounds of gunfire and breaking brickwork.

"Not a problem!" Reinhardt's voice cut above the din as he charged forward and out of the relative safety of the buildings, his massive bulk mowing down two figures as bullets ricocheted off his armor. No questions were asked as they followed, ducking and dodging as they dove for the protection of the trees. There, they could engage in a safer manner, hiding and ducking out of sight when needed. At least they weren't surrounded, and could keep their backs covered as they moved. Attention staying on them meant less trying to find out how to get into the base.

Jack stayed at the back of the group to cover their ass, pinning down a Talon soldier firing at those crossing from building to trees. When it was his turn to cross, he looked for his opening, only then noticing the fire had slowed considerably from one side. An inky spot in the dour foliage caught his eye. It was far enough away to have been ignored if not for the two Talon grunts on the ground, clearly either killed or knocked out as the Reaper formed from the ground up. He stared at Jack long enough for Jack to register the sight, his body turning to mist that seeped backwards into the trees a moment later. The trees were thick enough that he could easily become lost, but he was already charging towards where the Reaper had been.

"Jack! Where the hell are you going!?" Sojourn snapped over comms.

"Reyes is in the area!" He offered no more explanation as he charged past the treeline and into the woods; Sojourn's voice began to quickly crackle and hiss as the signal degraded. The light above almost instantly began to fade. As he was forced to slow his pace, his mind caught up with the rest of him and registered that it could easily be a trap. But why would Gabriel kill or incapacitate his own troops?

The darkness of the area helped to hide Gabriel from view in some places, but he always caught the inky shape ducking and weaving not too far ahead. The further in he continued, the worse the connection got- hearing the sounds of the comms cutting in and out before finally.. silence.

As he came to a clearing, he stared at what his husband had become. Two glowing red pinholes glared at him, and Jack almost instinctively set the pulse rifle aside. If they were going to fight, hand-to-hand was how Jack would deal with this- not a rifle.

"Ready to stop running?" Silence greeted him. There was no attack, or even any acknowledgement of Jack disarming himself. The entire situation made Jack’s hackles raise. "What is this? Silent treatment?"

Anger simmered beneath his skin, and he clenched his fists, stalking towards Reaper with every intent to beat him into a pulp.

"How many times did we come to this crossroad?" Jack froze, looking around their physical location. They'd never been here before. He looked to Gabriel, sneering beneath the mask before it hit him what he meant.

The amount of times where Jack would talk and Gabe would sit in silence were uncountable. Jack could speak a mile a minute in those times; ' _I'd rather talk than let things fester_ ' he had once said. They had spoken more than a few times about Gabriel's difficulties speaking- especially if it was about his own thoughts and feelings. Gabriel had been grateful that Jack understood his quiet- allowed him the time to think about what he wanted to say.

"What does that matter?" Jack snarled.

"What does any of this matter?" Reaper countered. The tone of his voice was tinged with something Jack could recognize even so many years later: exhaustion.

"If you're gonna spout nihilistic bullshit- cram it, I'm not interested."

"What _are_ you interested in?" Jack stopped, clenched his teeth behind the mask. Had to be mind games- though what the end goal was he didn't know yet. His mind was too full of static- thinking only of the here and now. He _wanted_ to talk to him, figure out what happened between their last day together and now. But he also figured a man who would shoot him in the back didn't want to talk. At this point, though, he had nothing to lose.

"Putting my fist through your idiotic mask, for starters."

"No more diplomacy? Long-winded self-righteous speeches not your style anymore?"

"Lot changes when you die- you should know that. You can even betray everything you stood for in life, if you want," he seethed. He didn't want to listen to what was left of his husband taunt him. He wanted to fight him, to unleash every bit of his pent-up anger on him.

Gabriel went silent again, and Jack figured he was well within his right to pummel him. He closed the rest of the distance between them with a charge. The first punch missed when Reaper's head phased out of the way, but when he twisted and threw an elbow back, he caught the reformed mask. Reaper jabbed, and connected with, Jack's own mask, but faded backwards when Jack recovered enough to swing again.

"Have you thought about our recent encounters at _all_ , or are you so blinded by the need to _hit_ something that you've lost the ability to _think_ critically?" Jack faltered just a second, baring his teeth behind his mask in rage at the insult as he tried to figure out just what feeling _that_ stirred within him. Beneath the rage at being taunted was every question he'd asked himself since their last encounter now pulled to the surface.

"What about them?" Jack snapped. Reaper went silent once more. Jack ground his teeth. He wanted to fight. He wanted the answer- this situation- to be simple. He wanted a bad guy to focus his anger on. But, at every turn, the answer was complex- if there even was one in the first place. "What is this? Suddenly you wanna talk in the middle of the woods?" He growled. Part of him was begging him to say 'no'. Hearing 'no' and hitting a faceless bad guy was easy. He _wanted_ to go after him again- bury him in the wet, marshy grass until he didn’t feel so blindingly enraged. Hearing 'yes' meant he would have to come to terms with his husband’s state and allegiance.

"Is there a better place to talk out of comm range of your band of misfits?" It was neither yes nor no, it was only more frustration at the non answers. But even despite his anger, he recognized an opportunity when he saw it. He needed answers; Reaper- _Gabriel_ \- could supply them. There was only one place on the planet that offered truly neutral ground; a place that neither would dare bring any violence to.

 _ **Cantegrouille**_.

"You know where." Jack's voice was steadier than he thought it might be. Reaper nodded. "Tonight."

"Tomorrow night," Reaper corrected. Jack paused, scowled at that. But he relented, nodded.

"Gonna be your last chance to explain anything. After that, if I'm not satisfied, _I'm putting you down_ ," Jack's voice seeped with malice.

"I'll see you there," Reaper croaked.

The world saw fit to snap him back to reality abruptly. Overhead, the orca slid into view, and Jack looked up at its belly. He jogged back to the edge of the clearing as it descended, retrieving the pulse rifle from where he'd left it. He already knew that by the time he looked back, Reaper would be gone.

The side door opened and he ran to it, stepping into the cabin.

"Reaper?" Sojourn asked as the transport took off once more. Jack shook his head.

"Gone. Took off when he heard the transport coming. Take it, things were successful on your end?"

“Left you in remarkably good condition.” Sojourn’s expression was doubtful, but she didn’t press when Jack shrugged, only offering a lame ' _I'm hardy_ ' in return.

"The computers in the base were still in good condition, but I would be surprised if they lasted another year. A lot of the base is unusable." Mei held up a handheld device. "But we were able to collect the data we needed!"

"Ride was a little bumpy on the way out but we definitely turned it around on Talon despite your excursion." Jack accepted that critique- having a team member go off on his own would’ve caused some wrinkles.

".. Sorry." Sojourn shook her head, and he sat with her to talk about the mission as the transport carried them back to base.

***

Ana sat on the edge of the bed, hands coming to rest on either side of Reinhardt's face. The German's eyes watered as he stared up at her. His own hands moved to cover hers, careful of the IV supplying her transfusion; the one the night before helped, but Angela had deemed a second necessary.

"I worry that every time you're out of my sight, you will be gone again- like I dreamed your return." His voice was gentle, reverent. Ana leaned forward, resting her forehead against Reinhardt's.

"I'm sorry, Reinhardt. I didn't mean to make you wait so long for me.” Her voice was soft. He shut his eyes, hands grasping Ana's own.

"I have missed you _every day, mein engel_ … " he took Ana's hands from his cheeks, holding them before him to kiss her knuckles. "I had thought I would never be able to look upon your face again."

She gazed at him, eye then shifting to look at their clasped hands.

"A lot has changed. For both of us." He softly pressed the backs of his fingers to her cheek. She leaned against them. At one time his gentle touches had made her feel stifled- but even that had been something she was glad to have unlearned over time. Now, she felt grounded, peaceful. She felt at home with the man enveloping her in his presence.

"You are still more beautiful than any star in the sky, _mein schatz_ ," he whispered. She sighed, closing her eye and letting a smile lift the corners of her lips.

"You still know how to flatter, _habibi_ ," she murmured fondly. His ensuing silence made her pause, eye opening again. She had wondered if her words upset him somehow, but he was smiling.

"I have missed you like the moon misses the sun, Ana." 

"And I have missed you like the sun longs for the moon, Reinhardt." Her lips pressed to his forehead, and his head dipped to rest in her lap. Her fingers carded through his hair, gently brushing at the strands.

Angela approached carefully, a hand on Ana's shoulder. Ana's own hand covered hers for a moment.

"I am alright. How much longer on this transfusion?" She asked.

"Another thirty minutes and you two can go get some sleep." Ana nodded her reply.

Angela moved away from them, shutting the door behind her to that room. She moved back to where Jack was still lying on his stomach on an examination table, his head resting on his arms. She pulled up the antiseptic rag that had been soaking his lower back, carefully inspecting the newly unstitched wounds.

"At a better glance… it could be inhibiting cellular regeneration to a point, but not completely. This might sting a bit, but it seems the best place to pick some of the material up."

Pinpricks of pain surged through the sensitive skin around the wound and he let out an indignant hiss. She paused for a moment, the dark mass she had been trying to ensnare falling away from the tweezers. She leaned forward, focused, as she stared at the pink blotches of new skin next to the dark black lines throughout the wounds. What his body had tried to heal before had not progressed, just as Ana had said.

"This is going to hurt," she warned, now, picking up a dulled scalpel. It couldn't cut much of anything, but it scraped easily without breaking delicate surfaces. She dragged it carefully along a patch of skin, trying to ignore the grunts of pain from Jack. Collecting the inky darkness on the edge of the scalpel, she deposited it in a vial and set it aside. Taking the end of an overhead machine arm, she flicked a switch. The machine gave a _whirr_ as it directed a stream of nanobiotics over the wound. The patches she had cleared seemed to soften and shift under the directed flow. With that, they were beginning to look more like the patchwork of scars that littered Jack's back and arms. Slow progress, but better than before.

Jack grimaced openly as he shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. Without the stitches, the wound was aggravated- though luckily it wasn't openly bleeding. Ana had recounted Jack's collapse, her attempts to stitch the gouges closed. ' _Might I suggest going slower next time?_ ' Angela had asked with what she hoped was the appropriate amount of gentle teasing. ' _You try slowly stitching up a bull that could wake up at any moment_ ' Ana had shot back with a wry grin. Angela had missed the older woman.

"Got any ideas what it is, doc?" She moved from the table to a desk, preparing a slide for the microscope there before she looked into it. She made a few small noises before she leaned back in her chair.

"I'm not entirely sure, yet. It seems… Well… _alive_ , for lack of a better word. Not sentient by any means. It looks like nothing I know, but I have some contacts I can ask. As for now.."

She stood, moving to Jack's side. His body was already trying to heal up that patch of skin- and at least getting farther than before even in a few moments with some help.

"If it is, it appears to be a very simple… organism. It's not looking for anything but fuel, if it is.”

"Shot in the dark, then," he grumbled as she pulled out a needle and thread to prepare new stitches.

"That would be that whatever this is, is trying to eat it's way through your back, but isn't strong enough to completely overcome your healing. In return, your healing factor can't overcome this organism- meaning your body and whatever this is are in a stalemate. If he has any control over it, he might be using it to passively feed on you, since most are dead in the instant. As far as I know, you're one of the few to have ever survived a Reaper attack."

"Great, I'm a giant protein smoothie for my homicidal ex-husband." Angela stared at him a moment, nonplussed.

"Unless he can overwhelm your system, or you can remove this material completely, your body will remain in this stalemate." Jack frowned. Thoughts drifted to their upcoming meeting in Cantegrouille. He'd have to think of a sufficient excuse to dip out without Ana. All he did hope for was some kind of understanding- or at the very least that Cantegrouille itself didn't burn to the ground.

"What's the conjecture based on?"

"Under a microscope, it behaves like most simple organisms, but we're not sure what… Gabriel is made up of at this stage. If it's anything like that _O'Deorain_ has concocted in the past, it's only there to make things worse." She began to work on stitching she she spoke, and Jack stared ahead, pensive.

"D'you know much about what she was doing with Gabe? The genetic condition." Angela sighed.

"No. By the time I knew, I had completely disavowed her and Oasis, and I knew there was nothing I could do for Commander Reyes… Aside from… potentially making him more comfortable." Silence descended like a heavy boot when she spoke. They let it hang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In today's episode of Dragon Ball Z, Angela finds out Gabe is made up of 90s Slime™ and Crystal Pepsi
> 
> mein engel: my angel  
> mein schatz: my treasure  
> habibi: masculine form of "darling"/close to it


	8. Prodromal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.” – Douglas H. Everett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Tom and Per as usual!
> 
> Applicable tws  
> trauma mentions, PTSD symptoms mention

_The hallways again. But this time his way is blocked. The makeshift wall between him and the rest of the hallway is made of a myriad of parts: deeply gouged metal, smoke, rivulets of an unknowable liquid, pieces of concrete, and crushed defunct weaponry amongst tattered cloth in a blue that’s oh-so-familiar. He almost turns around, but he's stopped by the sight of an unblemished metal chain in the midst of the rubble. He tugs on it, dragging out a necklace with a wedding band on the end. Tungsten, the interior engraving worn and barely leaving traces of what should have been there._

_He holds it in his hands as though cradling a precious gem, wondering what it was doing buried in that rubble. When he again turns to leave, he's then faced with a door that hadn’t been there when he was approaching. It bears a name plate that’s illegible- but he knows what should have been there._

_He steps through the door to find the office of the Strike-Commander in shambles. Fire engulfs the room, eating at pictures and books and awards, destroying everything in its path. His mind focuses on the toppled frame on the desk. His pictures- they’re **burning** ; and in the center of the room is Reaper- no, Gabriel- in the flames._

_"Where do you think I’m going?" Gabriel's voice is soothing, incongruous with the surroundings of flame and smoke. "Will you follow?"_

_Jack lunges forward- which he’s going for, he doesn’t know, but the ceiling crumbles around him._

"Data segment JM-10-B has finished collating, Guardian."

"Thank you. Did we retrieve some imaging from the dream?"

"Yes, although that section of the dream is corrupted, and has since been inaccessible. Images will take approximately 6 more hours to fully process." Despite best efforts, the information gleaned from sessions could be dry in its raw form; never ending lines of code and distorted images that needed to be translated into conversation and thought. The colorful, jumbled unprocessed imagery was akin to looking through 3-D glasses at a kaleidoscope. Turning the mind into lines of code and images was no easy task.

"It appears it's either buried in trauma, or he's caught on more than we thought." They sat back, pensive stare boring into the monitor.

"A more aggressive round of nanobiotics could potentially help if it is the former." The small box at the bottom right of their screen contained a woman with fierce hazel eyes and dark waves of brown hair. Golden cuffs clung to her ears, artificially glittering when her head moved.

"Mm, I suppose. But to conduct a more intensive session, we would need to bring him here, and I hardly think our poor Theseus would be a cooperative houseguest- besides, it would only make it more difficult to maintain his state if he's on high alert. There is also Overwatch to consider. I intend to take what I can from each of them- showing ourselves too soon when we've just begun would be _terrible_."

"Of course, Guardian. However, we must plan for the possibility that Overwatch is able to discover what’s in the transfer. What is your suggestion? I will also remind you that we have still not heard from Nikola regarding Mr Morrison's building tolerance."

"I'm confident in our capabilities, dear. We still have the upper hand."

“Until it is accounted for, it may be unwise to conduct sessions with him.”

“Mm, I think it’s a risk we’ll have to accept. I’m not going to stop my work because of a few hiccups, dear. I wouldn’t mind traveling less, but we have too much to do.”

***

"As you all know, I've spent a lot of time working with Athena to try to figure out what happened- see if we can recover what's missing." The scientist scratched his head, looking at the screen. "Athena?"

"Thanks to Winston, I've been able to recover, but we have no data on what caused the system shutdown at present. Nothing was broken, and all files are unaltered. We know that the basic functions of the watchpoint were still intact, but I was in a powered down state. However, I recovered something in the communications network."

"I'm guessing it's not something we sent," Genji remarked, arms crossed over his chest.

"It is an encrypted file containing approximately 250 terabytes of information. At this time, I do not possess the means to decrypt it, but judging by its path, I can determine with reasonable certainty that it was sent from this location during the hours I was asleep."

"Was it well-hidden?" Sojourn's frown drew her brows together. 250 terabytes of information wasn't all that shocking these days, but that was still a significant amount of information on a rarely-used network.

"Yes. Had I not been as thorough as I was in looking for sabotage, I might have missed it."

There was a brief silence that passed over them, absorbing the new information. Knowing something had happened was disconcerting, but now knowing someone had explicitly been in the base and used the network to move data… that opened too many bad possibilities.

"I have a contact who might be able to help, but I can't make any guarantees. Athena, would you be able to send your logs and the coded data to a flash drive? I wouldn't want this person having access to the base systems or you.” Jack shared a brief look with Ana as he spoke and he could already hear the incoming discussion.

"Your concern is appreciated, Commander Morrison. I will have the logs and a copy of the data sent to a flash drive."

"Thanks, Athena. And Just ‘Jack’ is fine." He took that moment to head out of the room, phone pulled from his pocket and already thinking of what exactly might be the cost of asking Sombra this.

 _[. . .]_  
_> connecting. . ._  
_> >connected!_

_[To: g5#dIJ43x] Got a favor to ask  
[From: g5#dIJ43x] Ooh, dangerous. Do tell.  
[To: g5#dIJ43x] Have an encrypted file on a usb that I need decrypted  
[From: g5#dIJ43x] Stealing from the government again, conejito?  
[To: g5#dIJ43x] Not the government this time. Doesn't matter where it's from, I just need to know what it'll cost  
[From: g5#dIJ43x] In a hurry, I take it?  
[To: g5#dIJ43x] Hurried enough. Can you do it?  
[From: g5#dIJ43x] Please, have I ever let you down?  
[To: g5#dIJ43x] Just because I don't know about it doesn't mean it hasn't happened.  
[From: g5#dIJ43x] No fun sometimes. You're supposed to tell me about my perfect track record. Because it really is perfect.  
[From: g5#dlJ43x] I'll send you a drop and get back to you when I've cracked your egg. We can discuss payment when I determine what’s in it.  
[To: g5#dIJ43x] Thanks._

Ana stared out the window of the observation lounge, her eye focusing on the texture of the tempered glass. Below, she could hear the sounds of people talking. The meeting was at a stopping point and she heard ideas for lunch. Her head turned at the sound of footsteps. In the doorway stood Sojourn, her ocular cybernetics dulled and eyes back to a beautifully rich brown.

"Mind if I talk to you, Captain?" She asked. Her face still held that deeply pensive expression.

"Just Ana is alright," she replied, nodding at Sojourn to beckon her further in.

"I'm…" She faltered a moment, searching for words as she moved into the room by the desk, looking at the different pictures tacked around the monitors. "I'm glad you two are back, it's just…. Hard to grapple with everything."

Ana's expression was gentle, her slight smile deepening her laugh lines for a moment. But the expression fell as she spoke, her eye drifting back to the sun setting over the sea.

"After my memories came back, I knew I could not return to Overwatch. So many times I convinced myself that I was doing what was right, but I could not justify the lives I’d taken." She stared at the silhouette of Jack below. Still on his phone, but he looked away from it when someone Ana couldn’t see joined him. "I protected those I love, and Overwatch stood against those who wanted to harm others, but we cannot ignore the pain Overwatch also caused over the years."

Sojourn sighed and sat down in the chair. Ana left the window and moved to stand beside her, weight rested back against the desktop. She looked down at the woman and wondered how much her life had changed since the bombing of the Swiss headquarters. Finding the drive to move forward after losing a piece of yourself- physically, mentally, and emotionally- was difficult. Ana wasn’t sure if she herself had fully recovered from what Amélie had done, from the time lost.

"I don't assume either of you did the things you did on a whim." Ana waited. Sojourn emitted a soft scoff, seeming to be trying to decide what it was she wanted to say. "So much changed. World's still so split on how to view what we did over the years… Figured I'd come up with something, but it's been years and I still don't know what to feel sometimes. I'll see the old posters and I think _'what happened to us? Is this really all we left behind? Some old posters and gossip?'_ I believed in Overwatch. Still do to some extent or I wouldn't be here. But there’s more than enough that makes me question if it's just nostalgia for something I lost, or if I really do believe we can- or _should_ \- return to doing good under Overwatch's name."

Ana laid a hand on Sojourn's shoulder, a gentle touch received by Sojourn's own hand covering it. There was a short quiet only broken by the low hum of conversation below and the electronics in the building thrumming softly around them.

"Things did not end as they should have. It was painful, and cruel to everyone who invested their heart and soul into Overwatch. But we left more than pain behind, that I know. Perhaps you are nostalgic for the days when we all felt like we belonged to something better, but we can still do good with or without Overwatch. I think I remember someone saying that 'doing good isn't limited to those in Overwatch'.”

"Been watching the old cartoon?" Sojourn grinned as she leaned to rest against Ana’s side.

"I don't need to, I have everything memorized from the days when Fareeha couldn’t get enough of the show. Plus, I'd hate to meet the main actress and forget a line." Sojourn couldn’t help the bashful chuckle. There was a stretch of silence, a comfortable thing that laid over them warmly.

"After everything I did for that series, so much of it had started to feel repetitive or corny. Hero speeches feel more at home in fiction than real life. I still felt 'em. Somewhere... Hell, sometimes I look at an old script and just… remember all the fun I'd had with the people who worked on it. I look at old lines and I find it comforting that at some point I believed in them- and maybe made some others believe in them, too."

"Perhaps you will be able to reprise your role in the future. I always felt you were part of why Fareeha grew up into such a wonderful young woman." Sojourn smiled, though it morphed into a grin as she straightened and looked up to Ana’s face.

"Is it because I helped run her out of energy when she was a toddler and you needed a nap?” Ana couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled out of her.

“I admit that is part of it, but you’re a wonderful woman, Sojourn. I’m only glad Fareeha had such a person to look up to.” Sojourn’s expression gentled, looking at her hands. They had at one time felt so foreign, but now they were just as much a part of her as her own heart. "And I'm glad we're here. I missed all of you. Life is not complete without your family." Sojourn looked back up, meeting Ana's one-eyed gaze. "I cannot heal any of the wounds we caused, but I can be here for as long as you all will have me."

"We’ll have you as long as we can, mama bear."

***

"I wanted to go back. In time." Lena's fidgeting hands rested against the ever-warm chassis of the Accelerator. She sat abreast from Jack, both of them atop a stack of crates. "Thought maybe I could find where any of you went, or change what happened. But it was too unstable and dangerous- even for me. The idea of getting lost in time again still terrifies me. For a while, I was angry that I hadn't tried. But every time I got close to trying, I would chicken out. I felt like a coward."

Jack didn’t speak at first, blue eyes searching Lena’s face as she looked back out to the sea. The waves and the gentle hum of the Accelerator were the only two things he could hear. It felt like the moment might shatter if he spoke.

"Always thought that if I'd tried, maybe I could save Ana, or you, or Gabriel. _Someone_. I kept thinking 'they'd do it for me'." Jack frowned, the scar between his eyes wrinkling. "I guess.. part of me wanted forgiveness for not… going back. I’ve thought ‘Overwatch is my family, and I couldn't even do this for them’…"

"None of us would’ve wanted you to put yourself in danger for us, Lena. Were we really gone, we would have wanted you to live a long and happy life with Emily." Lena sighed, hands fidgeting in her lap as she rested her elbows on her crossed knees.

Lena turned her head, staring at him with something painful in her eyes. He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but he didn’t push. All he could think about was how much she looked both the same and different as she had the first time he saw her after the accident. She had the exact same features, but there was a fatigue in her expression, her eyes weathered by a pain that she had no desire to hide from him- as though Atlas was finally growing weary. She was not a naive young woman signing on to pilot a dangerous experiment, she was a woman who had seen her life torn down before her- and blamed herself for not jumping into more danger.

"I think I just… need some time.” her smile still felt hollow, but Jack nodded in agreement.

“Just let me know if you want to talk.” She nodded in reply. The doors opened behind him and Ana exited the building, drawing both of their attentions. Jack dropped from his perch.

“Jack, can I talk with you?” He knew better than to argue with her for the moment, so he followed her out around the adjacent building until they were alone together.

“Is this the same contact that we assisted before, or someone new?” Ana asked. She had the look of a person who had already won the impending argument.

“From before. I’m going to a drop location along the French border.”

“Where?”

“Saint-Jean-de-Luz. It’s a fishing town. They have some great wine.” His attempt to lighten the mood took a swan dive into the dirt as she fixed him with a searing look. He leaned back on the wall, trying to appear unruffled. He needed to get moving but he didn't doubt she'd drug him again if he tried running off.

“You do know what this looks like, don’t you?” She asked stiffly.

“Enlighten me,” he replied through a sigh. He knew she had every right to call it out if she could, but also knew she couldn’t turn down the potential that he was being honest. To be fair, he wasn’t completely lying.

“I found out you left the group to go chasing after Gabriel. And now, suddenly you need to go to _that_ city?”

Although no one in their immediate circle knew where the pair were planning to retire, everyone knew Saint-Jean-de-Luz. It was a fishing town near the border that Jack and Gabriel frequented while planning. Cantegrouille was quite a few miles’ walk from the edge of the town- too far for cell towers, but close enough that you could make the walk in a few hours- or ride on horseback as Jack had suggested. The plan had been to live there in secret for a while, then slowly invite family over time to join in their retired happiness. Given what she knew, that city coming up **now** of all times was far too suspicious to ignore.

"I know what it looks like. But I _am_ going to a drop to have the files looked at. Regardless of anything else, getting into that thing is important and my contact is skittish, so bringing someone they don’t know is out of the question." Ana crossed her arms. She didn't like him keeping secrets, and her gut told her Jack was lying. His tells were subtle, but knowing him for 30-odd years meant he could close the book all he wanted- she'd already memorized the pages. "It's familiar to me, and it's neutral grounds. I'll go tonight and be back tomorrow late afternoon."

"And if you inevitably get into trouble?" She asked flatly.

"Hey, I survived seven years on my own, didn't suddenly forget how just because you showed up." She couldn't help the small smile at that. At this point, if he hadn't cracked yet, he wasn't going to. It always took about a minute of grilling for him to relinquish most of his secrets to her, bar only very few things.

"Be safe, Jack. And don’t hesitate to call if you need something" Jack stepped into her waiting hug, head resting against her own for a moment.

“Promise, you’ll be the first to hear about it,” he said as he pulled away from her and began heading back towards the base doors.

“Only because you don’t want to admit it to anyone else,” she chided, though her tone was teasing.

He needed to collect his gear before he left. Best to prepare for the worst. He loved Gabriel, but he would not die by his hands. At least not yet. He was sure enough that Gabriel did want to talk, but he wasn't enough of a fool to think that Gabriel wouldn't attack him at this point in time. In all honesty, though, he didn't know what Gabriel would do. Looking ahead, all options seemed to have more bad than good, but it’d been a long time since he’d let that stop him.

It had been so long since he'd been to Cantegrouille. The house had been a labor of love over the later years of Overwatch, hard won by Gabriel- whose desire to retire in peace with his husband had won Jack over in time. He had wanted to retire, but the world could so easily snatch him or Gabriel away. It felt silly to dream of peace and quiet. Though by now, all he could feel was that the voice in the back of his head had been right all along. There was never going to be a happy ending; they both had died before they could really live there- or even really live as residents in a world they had fought to protect. He wondered how the house had fared against the weather over the years.

Well, he mused, it couldn't be worse than its wounded owners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon1: Basically Sojourn's ocular cybernetics create a layer of correction over her vision, and she turns them off around people she trusts. While she isn't completely blind without them, they do correct her vision, which was damaged in the fall due to exposure while helping people escape the building.
> 
> Headcanon2: Sojourn and Ana were rather close in Overwatch. Sojourn learned a lot about command from Ana and was set to sort of take up Ana's place before Overwatch fell.
> 
> Headcanon3: Sojourn was the main character of the Overwatch cartoon and no one will convince me otherwise. She was an active agent during the show's runtime, and was promoted within Overwatch a bit before the show was cancelled.
> 
> Headcanon4: Jack suffers from a particular avoidance symptom of PTSD called "sense of foreshortened future" in which it's very difficult to plan for major life events like retirement, marriage, etc because of the expectation that your life can or will be cut short suddenly. Although he briefly saw a therapist after the close of the Omnic Crisis, he very quickly stopped due to a refusal to confront a lot of what had happened between the Crisis and SEP, and basically just claimed he couldn't due to his duties.
> 
> Translation:  
> conejito: diminutive of bunny or rabbit. She basically just calls him a little rabbit.


	9. Cantegrouille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It always leads back to that place; to Cantegrouille.

' _Light trains make the world a smaller place_ ,' Jack had once mused, staring out the train window. There was an answering hum, Gabriel not moving from where he'd dozed off on Jack's shoulder. The sight of him against the backdrop of a world passing by impossibly fast stuck with Jack even so many years later.

He remembered growing up where his primary means of travel was horseback, tractor, or old car; the sight and speed of a light train had blown his young mind. His parents' concerns that their sensitive child might be scared by the trains had quickly morphed into concern for his safety as he tried to experience everything.

_"Johnny, don't run off! It's dangerous!"  
"I wanna see all the trains, dad!"_

Riding one now, he considered his destinations. Trust was a strong word, but Jack relied on Sombra's expertise, and even though he wouldn't admit it to her, she really hadn't let him down, yet. He reasoned that the flash drive wouldn’t be reconnected to Athena, and they'd made what seemed to be the best choice- who he was trying to convince of that he didn't know.

As he drew closer to that town, his thoughts quieted, shifting to the upcoming meeting. At one time he'd trusted Gabriel with his life. Now, he wouldn't turn his back on him for suspicion of more vertebrae being knocked loose by shotgun fire. The fact that Gabriel had specifically called him to Cantegrouille, at the very least, meant he didn't want to kill him. Neither would be the one to take the first shot there- _if_ Gabriel was still within Reaper. It was a gamble. Anything seemed possible- Gabriel's ability to hide his emotions had only become more absolute with a mask on.

He stepped off the back of the train and ducked into the shadows of the platforms, trying to shrug off the drape of nostalgia that blanketed him. They'd never lived at Cantegrouille permanently, but spent three all-too-short vacations at the home and this town; along with countless hours of planning towards it. They'd spend evenings under the stars beside the water before they headed back to Cantegrouille. Decorating, painting, making decisions about changes... That taste of solitude had only made him more determined to retire- and thus, more heartbroken when everything began to fall apart.

_"What do you want from me, Jack?"  
"Honesty! That's all I've ever wanted from you! But you can't even tell me how bad this sickness is!  
Were you just planning on dying without telling me anything!?"  
He regrets the words the second they're out of his mouth.  
Gabriel looks gaunt and exhausted._

The sound of a departure announcement shook him, and it was only then he realized he'd shifted his weight as if to follow memories. Too often, lately, he felt lost in a haze- the claws of those dreams still hooked into him even in daylight. There was something there, buried in metaphor and old wounds, but he couldn't grasp it yet. He moved across the tracks, away from the building. The late hour was a boon- else he might have to put more effort towards not getting lost in daydreams.

***

It was closing in on midnight when he finally saw the house. The first droplets of rain hit him as he slowed his pace the rest of the way. Lightning brightened the sky, outlining the house in a blazing flash before it was gone, booming thunder following soon after. Murky clouds that darkened the moon made the rest of the walk to the house feel like an eternity in liminal space- lost to his memories as sunflowers bowed like tired sentries along the path, weighed down by their bulbous heads and the quickening intensity of the rain.

Cantegrouille still stood. It had not yet collapsed under time and weather. But the porch sagged, and the trellis was overgrown into a wall of unruly plant life. What had once been the start of a garden was now tall grass and knotted weeds. It was difficult to tell that the exterior walls had once been yellow. He'd expected Gabriel to turn the color down.

_"Oh, yellow... please, angel, it'll look so pretty with the sunflowers."  
The answering laugh enamors him- Gabriel, darling, angel, starlight-  
"Of course, Sunshine" oh, he loves that he might add warmth and light to Gabriel's life,  
find love in rich brown eyes like soft summer kisses-_

Anger had long faded. Only a bone deep fatigue and sense of longing remained. Jack climbed the steps onto the groaning front porch and out of the rain. Pausing there, he listened to the steady rhythm of the downpour hitting the house. Despite that, he could still hear the chorus of frogs that lived in the nearby pond; the inspiration behind the home's faux French namesake.

The hide-a-key was hidden in the now-broken front porch light. The lock turned with some resistance, and he shouldered the stubborn old door open. Looking inside, he was glad for his mask. Webs of every kind strung from ceiling fixtures and furniture, meshing with the dust to create a palpable barrier between the rest of the world and this home frozen in time.

He set down his gear, the rain quickly soaking through dust and webbing. He wished to clean, do something in the meantime to keep himself busy. Would Reaper feel this same nostalgia as he stared into the abandoned home? Again, he wondered if there was anything left of Gabriel- he had assigned so many messy feelings to him over the years of loneliness and anger. But perhaps he had indeed died that day, a facsimile of smoke and hatred taking his place.

He could’ve been invited out here by an empty shell that found his misery amusing.

The sound of heavy boots on the porch outside brought him back to reality. The clear and present noise seemed deliberate, allowing Jack to know where he was. He turned as the door opened, and the shape of the Reaper filled the frame. The faint glow of his red eyes was almost unnerving through the visor- though his posture spoke only of fatigue. For a moment, neither moved.

_“Think we could come back next week?” Jack asks suddenly.  
“Do you think we’ll have the time?”  
Time  
Time  
There was never enough **time**._

Reaper closed the door behind him and moved to sit. There was something uncanny about the sight; a nightmare quaintly sitting at the dining table they’d picked out years ago. The atmosphere brimmed with anxiety that seeped under Jack's skin; uncomfortable silence, only broken by the sound of muted rain and their dripping gear.

"Where do we start?" Reaper’s voice was deliberately impersonal- a tone he’d used often when handling a situation he was unsure of; collecting data, measuring reactions. Jack knew they both understood the importance of this conversation, but their moments had never felt this crucial- the consequences never so dire. They were at the edge of something, and it needed to be handled with care.

"Overwatch," Jack declared sharply. "When did you decide to start working for Talon?" Selfishly, he wanted Gabriel to be angry. Anger was comfortable, now. Fighting was simpler, easier. Just him and his mission; impassioned, intense, _alive_ taking down his foes. Here he felt unsure, torn between what he felt was right and what he wanted.

Reaper stared at him, then scanned the room in silence. Brief flashes of lightning lit up the webs and dust like ghosts of what could have been.

"After you died."

That gravel-rough voice was softer, tired, those eyes still focused elsewhere. The unexpectedness of that answer- the pain that seeped into Gabe’s voice- made Jack ache so painfully that he paused. _Liar_. His brows furrowed. _**Liar**_. It felt patronizing, but more than that, it shattered the possibility that Gabriel was gone, cemented that he was aware of what he’d done. He buried his ache beneath anger and pain.

And yet… _Why lie now?_ Here, in this home at the end of the world.

"So I die and you jump into Talon’s arms?" he snapped. Gabriel didn't immediately reply. "They killed our agents, murder innocents, incite war- what the _hell_ kind of reasoning could you possibly have!?" Lightning illuminated them briefly. Rolling thunder followed, and rain filled the silence once more.

"I wanted revenge. This was the only way." His voice bleeds with fatigue, betraying him for but a moment. Jack knew he was trying to remain stoic, trying to convey himself after years of silence. But his anger could not allow it- not yet.

"On _who_?" Jack demanded. “The people who loved you and called you family? Lena? Winston? _Ana_?”

"On the ones that ruined what we had-" Gabriel cut himself off, pressing back emotion. Jack knew that tone, knew that he always needed time when he spoke on things that pained him. Years ago, Jack would have given him that, but here and now he had little empathy.

"How does working for Talon to hunt down the people who loved you accomplish _any_ kind of revenge?" Jack's voice was sharp, unrelenting, and hostile. He heard a short exhale. Even with the mask, that noise was something Jack knew; Gabriel was stuck at a crossroads of what he wanted to say.

"I was alone-" His tone wavered, as though understanding how much that sounded like an excuse. "I was on my own. I took it all into my hands and decided I would tear through their insides. I wanted to destroy Talon from within just like _they_ did to _us_. _**This**_ was the only option I had."

"You're still helping _**Talon**_!" Jack snarled, fury exploding forth. "You carry out their missions and collect tools to make them stronger- You nearly killed Winston and Lena, tried to take Overwatch agent locations to them- and what about the holes in my back- the ones **you** put there that still won't heal? Good people have died at _your_ hands! How the _hell_ can you stand here and try to say you’re working ‘against’ Talon!”

“Did _everyone_ Blackwatch killed deserve their death?” Reaper’s tone wasn’t tinged with malice, no. Jack heard the slip of desperation, of wanting so badly for Jack to understand even in his rage. It was effective enough to knock the wind from Jack's sails for a moment. Reaper only watched as he grappled with the question. _Did_ everyone Blackwatch killed deserve their death?

Everyone? Could he guarantee that? Both of them had bloodied their hands, but Gabriel had unquestioningly taken the brunt of that burden. They told themselves that it was so peace could survive another day- but could Overwatch claim the authority to render judgment with impunity? They couldn’t pretend they knew without a shadow of a doubt that all those that had fallen before them deserved that fate. Confident in their decisions, perhaps, but no one could claim they were right 100% of the time.

If Gabriel's hands were already so steeped in blood that they could never be cleaned, would any further staining truly make him _more_ than irredeemable?

“Don't equivocate- we did _not_ assassinate innocents. We didn’t tear apart cities and traffick weapons across the world- we didn’t level buildings or incite war.” His voice was quieter, though the anger hadn’t left him. Bubbling doubts that had plagued him in the years since the fall of Overwatch rose to the surface once more. Gabriel didn’t reply at first. Lightning cast shadows across the bone white mask, and the sound of rain filled the otherwise silent room.

“Seven years ago I told myself I would do anything for this mission. _Anything_ , if it meant that Talon would eventually fall.” He could feel that Gabriel wanted to say more, but stopped himself short. Rage still bubbled within Jack, but Gabriel’s somber tone pierced it, and Jack could almost see the manic logic in that. Almost.

“‘ _The end justifies the means_ ’? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Jack wasn’t yelling, but his tone was no less venomous. Elbows resting on the table before him, Reaper reached up, gauntleted hands slipping beneath his hood, though he didn’t remove it just yet. If anything, trying to hold himself together. “What‘s the plan, _Gabriel_? Hope someone else gets big enough to take Talon down?”

There was a resignation in the way Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. He had something important he needed to convey- he wouldn’t have called them to Cantegrouille if not- but words had never felt so useless as now. Jack Morrison wanted to help Gabriel Reyes, but those men had died years ago. The two that faced off now were mere shadows of what should have been.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Defeated was not the appropriate word for Gabriel’s tone; exhausted, resigned, mournful perhaps. Jack couldn’t help that split second of regret, of pain at seeing the man he loved filled with sorrow. But could he accept that Gabriel was telling the truth? Trying, in a disjointed way, to tell Jack that this was the only path he’d seen- that he had already accepted his damnation if it meant destroying Talon. It was not about excusing himself, but the progression of a man with nothing left to lose after the destruction of his life.

The silence weighed on him. Jack’s stubborn mind only grew into more of a fever pitch the longer they said nothing. The whispers of uncertainty arose, hidden then in anger to protect vulnerability once more.  


Gabriel remained silent, accepting of Jack's decision.

“ **Fine**.” Jack’s tone was final. As he grabbed his rifle and bag, he told himself he should kill the Reaper. The world wouldn’t miss him, but there was no silencing the doubts, the possibilities; the horror of realizing that he could possibly come to hate a man he'd spent years pining for. His back still ached as if to remind him of Gabriel’s actions in Egypt. But, still, he couldn't bring himself to try to kill him- not here and now in what was supposed to be theirs. The voice in the back of his mind asked again, ‘ _why lie now_ ’?

He strode to the Reaper, pausing to raise a fist and hammering it into the ivory mask before he walked towards the door. But Reaper rose as he recovered, gauntlet grasping at the leather of the soldier's jacket. He wrestled him away from the door for just a fraction of a moment even as Jack snarled and jerked back.

"Don't tell anyone." Gabriel had once more adopted the impassive tone, though it wavered, as if trying to remain in control of emotions that clawed at him. "This was only for you."

He was so close, _too close_. Jack’s mind reeled, chest heaving, yanking on his arm again as if to escape those emotions that tried to bubble up so quickly.

"Wouldn't tell a soul either way- _let go of me_ ," he snapped, mind a frenetic hive of too many emotions. When Reaper complied, Jack stood still, staring at him in a moment that seemed to last forever. He knew what he wanted: for Gabriel to be telling the truth. Was that the only way? To commit monstrous tasks so he could move closer to the heart of the beast?

"I'm sorry." The admission was hushed and unexpected, apparently even to Gabriel. The gentle apology struck something in his heart, and Jack wondered if he wasn’t growing weak. He wanted desperately to know what was happening in Gabe's mind- be allowed that shred of intimacy again. Touch-starved and of weary heart, he just wanted to fall into his husband’s arms- deal with the consequences later.

Anger tried to withstand his fatigue and pain- _begged_ him to ignore Gabriel’s words and leave. Still, he knew that despite all reservations, Gabriel had no reason to lie to him here. He remained where he was.

"I don't know how to salvage this.” Reaper’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost lost to the constant rain. “It would be so easy for us to despise each other.”

Even now Jack couldn’t lie to himself. He could have despised Gabriel before when he assumed that he had betrayed them. He loathed what he had turned into, ached for what was lost, yes. But not despising him. He could never truly let go. It was why he still wore the worn metal band on his finger, and kept the image of their wedding in the photos he carried.

Lightning flashed, threw them into stark contrast. Thunder and rain filled the void of silence between them.

"This is where we end up." Jack’s words were quiet and melancholic, without direction. They had both come here, wanting each other but unable to reconcile what they had become.

“Tell me what you want.” Gabriel’s voice is unsteady. Jack looked at him, the red of his visor reflected in that bone white mask.

What Jack wanted. What he wanted changed so often, but there was a constant: Gabriel. No matter the world they inhabited, the foes they faced, the trials they underwent, he wanted Gabriel with him. Just Jack. Just Gabriel.

He wanted his life back, with all its faults.

“I want justice for what happened to Overwatch. I want Talon destroyed... I want-” He cut himself off and looked away, swallowed the lump that tried to form in his throat. He’d stamped down those emotions for so long that now they threatened to choke him in a wave.

“What do you want?” Gabriel’s voice was still quiet. Jack was enough of a fool to want to say it, give up the protection of his pride and the moniker of 76 just to possibly hear that Gabe felt the same; that he wanted him, too- so desperately that he’d come here.

“ _Us._ ”

A desperate noise escaped Gabriel’s throat, gasping to vocalize his pain, hand on the back of the chair in a crushing grip to steady himself. He’s hunched as though trying to stop himself from feeling too much, from being consumed by the very same emotions that threatened to destroy Jack as well.

“I don’t know,” he croaked, his voice a deep well of sorrow. “ _I don’t know, sunshine._ ”

That word broke anything left of Jack’s resolve, his anger, his pain. Hearing it again after so long, to be called that name by Gabriel after years of thinking him dead- thinking him a betrayer. His gear was forgotten on the ground, fingers unlatching the bottom of his mask and pulling it off. He held it in both hands, staring at what had been his face for so long, now.

“I know,” he whispered. He wanted to go back, back to when he didn’t have to think about what Gabriel had suffered to get here, about what choices they had both made. He felt guilty for suggesting something so impossible, as though the very reminder of what they had been was a crime unto them both. “I’m sorry.”

Gabriel’s mask clattered to the table, and he made no move to pick it up. Instead, his gaze traveled to Jack.

Meeting eye to eye with masks forgotten felt like the first breath of air to a drowning man, stung with the need for more; the pain of deep lungfuls of air that were simultaneously too much and not enough at the same time- and it _burned_ to feel so fiercely.

Jack stared through blurry eyes at the marked, wounded face of his husband- still so familiar despite what he had become. He took the red gloves off, set them on the table, and extended his hands. Gabriel didn’t stop him from cupping his face, tears falling against Jack’s skin, hood slipping off his head. He whispered his name, covered Jack’s hands with his own, and rested his forehead against him.

“I’ll work harder,” he barks out through gritted teeth, through 7 years of sorrow. He breathed in heavy lungfuls, trying to hold himself together, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll give you their heads. _I promise_. I just need _time_.”

Jack couldn’t stop the flow of tears mirrored on Gabe’s marred face, which wrinkled and stretched to try to fit emotions he had been denied for so long. Jack whispered his name, held his face, met his eyes when Gabe opened them.

“ _There you are, my love_ ,” he whispered, and the Reaper died, if only for a moment.

They sank to the floor, grasping each other in desperate fear that they might vanish when they let go. Shaking hands moved to Jack’s head, his back, pulled him close as he clutched at Gabe's back. For the first time in years, he broke against Jack’s warmth. Hands moved then to either side of Jack’s face, held it as tight as he dared.

“You should go, sunshine,” Gabe whispered, though neither moved. Gabriel knew him; knew Jack would have run ahead blindly through hellfire and brimstone just for the sake of Gabriel's voice.

“Starlight.” He breathed out the word and Gabriel seemed to crumble anew with a choked sob. Jack leaned that inch more to kiss Gabriel’s scarred lips. A promise, a blessing, and a curse; that he should finally get to kiss the man he loved even as he knew he may never get the chance again.

“I’m so sorry.” The wraith cut off his own voice against Jack’s lips, kissing him again and again. He held Jack’s head so tightly in his hands, as though frightened that letting go would cause either of them to shatter against the dusty floor. “I am so sorry for the things I’ll say, the things I’ll keep doing."

“I know.” The desperate part of Jack no longer cared that Gabriel could be lying- he would suffer those consequences if it meant he could hold him. He tucked his face against Gabe's neck, savored being held as his arms wrapped tighter around Gabe. He couldn’t deny himself this, couldn’t deny his husband‘s sorrow. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

Silence followed, Jack giving him ample time to try to muster his words.

“I want you, too," Gabe murmured after a pause. “But I don’t know how much more I can take. I’m so tired-"

“I won't lose you again," Jack interjected.

“Would succeeding be any better than failing at this point?” Gabe asked miserably. Jack clutched at him tighter.

“ _Yes_. We _can’t_ let it end like this,” Jack breathed, lifting his head and Gabriel’s own to hold it in his hands. Thumbs traced over Gabriel’s cheekbones, forehead pressed to his.

"I love you, Starlight," Jack whispered. He wondered if every time Gabriel heard that name, he too felt like he’d been struck by the lightning that flashed outside. To finally hear it again in this home, after so many years, created a deep well of time-lost emotion. He wanted it so badly, wanted to hear it until it no longer hurt, but he knew that would be asking too much.

"I love you, Sunshine," he murmured as lightning lit up the skies. He let himself rest against Jack once more. Whatever tomorrow brought, it could not change this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sir, that's my comfort ship and I can cry if I want to.
> 
> Sorry for the delays, but writing this chapter was a bit slow (and self-indulgent don't look at me like that), and editing took forever because I basically rewrote half of it when I found I didn't really like what I'd had.
> 
> There was so much I wanted to get across. But it's here, and I really, really hope you enjoyed it and it was worth the wait!
> 
> Thanks again to Per and Tom <3


	10. Cognizance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world doesn't always feel quite real, but what's real seems less and less possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you start seeing references to Jack's beard mind your business it's good and I'm thirsty and Blizz finally gave us bearded Jack
> 
> Relevant tws: some blood, broken bones (not graphic), needles (Ana's darts)
> 
> This is a longer chapter! I hope you enjoy it!!

_She stares down the halls. They're longer than they should be, right? She smells the wind and the ocean and the slightly burnt scent of Torbjorn's age-old soldering iron. It's always been embedded in her senses, that smell of work._

_"Angie, what are you doing awake?" Ingrid's voice is gentle, standing in the doorway behind her. She takes Angela’s small hand._

_Those eyes. Ingrid's eyes were calm, gentle green, not dying moss. This wasn't her mother. Her mother was-_

_"When did you decide to become Mercy?" Torbjörn's assistant asks, gaze piercing her. Angela's finger jabs in the assistant's direction as Ingrid attempts to draw her away- away from the workbench, away from answers._

_"Tell me who you are!" She cries, startling that incongruous assistant, and Ingrid chides her in Swedish. Torbjörn hasn't turned around. She doesn't know if she expects him to. She was older when they began work on the Valkyrie suit, not a young child. She doesn't know how she knows that's what they're working on. The lab felt too cold, and the notes she could see were illegible- but they were her notes… weren't they?_

_"You'll let me borrow them, won't you?"_

***

"Angela." She startled, looking back towards the owner of that voice. Blinking a few times, Angela registered Jack and stretched a hand out to him. He took it in his own, blue eyes filled with concern. She stood for a moment, sighing long and tired as her other hand rubbed at her face, trying to ground her. "What's wrong?"

"Dream." She didn't elaborate for a moment, instead looking down the darkened hallway. He had to have felt it at some point, too, right? That moment where a hallway or a movement felt disconnected from reality- attached instead to those dreams. "I had one last night. I turned a corner here and felt… like I was still dreaming."

"You're awake, doc, promise." She nodded, sighing.

"Any luck with the flash drive?"

"Got it back. Seems like my contact couldn't help as much as I'd hoped, but we have something." Angela's hands absently patted her pockets.

"I meant to ask- the last time you and Ana woke me, did you move any of my things?" Her tone was more tired than accusatory.

"No, why?" He rose a brow, following her as she headed towards the main room.

"My favorite pen is missing, and some of my things had been shuffled. Ana mentioned you've misplaced some things as well on occasion."

"No clue about the pen. My phone or mask aren't in the right place, sometimes, but I always find ‘em."

She nodded as they rounded the corner and entered the full room. The burner laptop was already set up and the occupants still seemed to be waking up. There was a quick mention from Winston that the base had been affected again the night prior, and that he would be working on repairing Athena. Angela and Jack shared a look before he sat at the laptop.

"According to my contact, this kind of coding would need an advanced program to decipher and use it- specifically a program that would require a pretty sizable technological investment. We could still get useful data like location from it, but to quote them, 'you're shit out of luck if you think I'm digging through 60 million lines of code for you'." Jack inserted the drive, looking at the small boxes that flipped up containing endless amounts of data. Leaning on the back of the chair, Lúcio hummed in interest.

"Y'know, I remember watching my dad code when I was younger. He used to say the more complicated your code gets, the bigger potential to do a whole lotta good, or a whole lotta bad," he said after a few moments of skimming. Jack motioned to it questioningly, and the DJ shrugged, taking the seat when Jack vacated it.

As it had many times since leaving Cantegrouille, Jack’s mind drifted to the confrontation. He should have grilled Gabriel for hours, wringing every last detail from him. He was chasing truth, not comfortable emotion. But he’d changed the rules for Gabriel, as he had a thousand times before. Of course he did. Foolish, selfish, but he had convinced himself he was allowed this deliberate mistake.

Would it be hypocritical to condemn Gabriel when he was also guilty; or self-serving to excuse Gabriel’s actions when he didn’t know the extent of them?

"Without the program that's supposed to run it, we'd be taking shots in the dark for days," Lúcio remarked, finally. "I've got a friend who could probably build something, but it'd take time."

"I could look through it." Eyes fell to Echo.

"That'd be dangerous, Echo," Winston said hurriedly. Athena's systems _whooshed_ around them as she rebooted. "We don't know what's on here- it could harm your system! Whoever's doing this can affect Athena. They could hurt you, too."

"I'm aware of the dangers, Winston, but I believe that I can protect myself. And we are low on options with someone who is already threatening this base's safety, we don't know how much time we have." There was an uncomfortable silence that followed. They really didn't know the cause of this, and now it was the second time in which the base had been compromised. "After I'm finished, I'll remain disconnected from the network, and perhaps you and Lúcio could assist in any systems malfunctions while I run diagnoses."

"I'm with Winston. That might be too much of a risk," Sojourn interjected.

"If it's something you feel is worth the risk, I could keep Winston in contact with that friend. She's kind of a robotics wiz." Echo nodded in reply, and Lúcio stood, slipping out of the room for a moment.

"Alright. But the first sign of danger, you disconnect. I don't want you hurt." Winston's expression was openly conflicted. Echo settled somewhat awkwardly into the seat. One of her fingers opened to pull a short cable from within, plugging it into the laptop. The text moved at a blistering pace, scrolling through and checking thousands of lines all at once.

Within moments, her face flickered in and out, a holographic exclamation mark hovering before her flickering headpiece. The laptop continued to run, the lines of code moving until she suddenly pulled her cable free, and her face reshaped.

"There is one locatio-nn." She stood abruptly, her synthesized voice lagging. Her form sagged and she nearly came apart if not for Winston.

"Echo!" He caught her quickly, her face flashing in and out as she tried to work through whatever was affecting her system. The room pulsed with movement, as though everyone seemed unsure of how to help except to stay out of the way. She still moved towards the table, indicating a location on the map. Her hand fell, arm soon following as her limbs all shut down one by one. Winston was there to try to help her as she moved.

"I'm g _oo_ o **o** oo ** _oi_** in- _n_ -ngg _to_ s **sh** h _u_ t…. do ** _wn_** n…. Ii **i** t's ok-k-k ** _a_** y." Her voice flashed through accents and inflections until her body snapped apart.

"Echo- Echo! It's okay, we'll take care of you, I promise," Winston stammered. Lena was up first, calling out to Lùcio that they needed that friend and following Winston to the labs.

Jack looked to the location indicated. Near the border between Poland and Slovakia. Worry about what Sombra might have done to Echo fell back as he surveyed the map. If this was where that transmission was going, then whatever they were looking for was there. It had to be, right? At the very least, _something_ was there.

"South of Wołowiec?" Sojourn asked.

"We can take a small group," Jack replied, already mentally making a checklist of gear. "Otherwise I'm not opposed to going it alone. Pretty small village."

"Yes, but you have the people skills of a defrosted sloth right now, so I doubt you'll be garnering their favor too quickly." Jack grunted in half-protest at Ana's words.

"Ana, me, Angela, Jack, Genji, and Lena. The rest can stay here to work with Winston and keep the base secure. Don't need anything else compounding the situation. We'll leave in 20 minutes." Sojourn's voice was authoritative, commanding their attention and action swiftly.

***

Jack stared at the phone, a blank messaging screen staring back. He'd written and deleted four messages to Sombra, each a varying degree of angered and accusing. He grimaced in frustration.

He was tempted to chuck the thing out of the transport as different emotions struggled for dominance. Namely, anger that Echo was hurt, and shame that he hadn't even pretended to object. Seeing even a potential end of this malady of dreams had been too tempting a prize to consider Echo's safety. She knew the risks and offered despite the danger. And yet… he knew Sombra wasn't trustworthy. Even so, she hadn’t crossed him in two years of knowing each other. Why betray him, now? And who was to say that this wasn't the owner of that transfer protecting their assets?

"Hold that thing any tighter and I think it'll snap," Sojourn said as she looked out the window alongside him.

"I should've known," he muttered, stuffing the device into his pocket. “Contact isn’t completely trustworthy.”

"Winston pulled Athena's core out of a burning base, I don't think he'll give up on Echo easily." It was clear the situation had also been on Sojourn’s mind. But she seemed far more collected about it than he. "Regardless, you can't exactly have known what would happen. Not like the laptop shorted out immediately."

"Still feels like my fault," he mumbled, looking out at the passing world.

"It wasn't your decision to make," Sojourn replied. "She's more aware of her capabilities than you are."

Jack looked at her. Her expression was one of neutral ease that always calmed the nerves no matter the occasion. Of course, it didn't hurt that she was right. It wasn't just his problem. It had become everyone's problem the moment whatever this was had shut down the base and targeted Angela. Overwatch tried to look after its own. A threat to her wouldn’t be taken lightly, of course.

"You're right. Sorry." She only smiled at him knowingly.

***

Wołowiec was one of many places affected by the Crisis. It was also one of the places that had not received Overwatch's help in the intermediate years. The small population and the tucked away nature of the town had meant that it needed to find it's own resources to survive the aftermath. Looking down from the orca, it was apparent they had. A newer town stood next to the ruins, filled with vibrantly colored buildings, flourishing gardens, and people moving through the streets. None appeared to immediately take note of the orca that landed some ways away, tucking itself into the ruins.

"Is there anything in this area aside from the town?" Sojourn asked, eyes roving the landscape. It was beautiful, in a somber way, the ruins like a tombstone to the parts of the world that didn't survive the Crisis.

"There's the Carpathian Institute. It's a mental health facility at the base of the mountain," Angela replied.

"Think this is a case of the Institute being the source?" Genji asked.

"No, I checked because I had that same concern. The coordinates are too far apart to be the same.”

"Hmm, no horror movie for us today, then," Genji replied lightly.

"Don't worry, Genji, if we run into any ghosts, I'll make sure they don't try to possess you." Lena wiggled her fingers in a spooky fashion, drawing a chuckle from the ninja.

"Who's there?" The voice was severe, young and feminine, coming from above them in one of the ruined buildings. It immediately put the group on high alert. Though, from where they were, it was difficult to tell which building held their eavesdropper. 

"We're just passing through," Sojourn began, her voice loud enough to carry, and balancing between firm and nonthreatening.

"No one just passes through. Not in that direction," the voice replied sharply.

"What's in that direction?" Ana asked.

"... You don't know?" Trepidation now seeped into the voice.

"We know there's an institute in the area, but nothing else. I promise we mean no harm to you or your town.” Silence followed, almost as though their visitor had left, but after a bit of time they spoke again.

"Go west from here to the edge of the ruins. I'll meet you there." There was a sound from up high, a shifting of rocks that gave away their spectator's previous position.

"Sounds like a trap," Jack muttered. "Whoever's in charge probably isn't leaving this place unguarded."

"She sounded young," Ana's tone was firm. "I don't rule an ambush out, but we don't know if whoever is infiltrating the base knows we're onto them. If they came again last night I don't think they feel particularly threatened."

"She seemed curious that we didn't know about whatever's out there," Angela said, shifting her weight and looking towards the mountains. "I think whatever comes, we can handle it."

"We’ll just be prepared for anything, then, as usual,” Sojourn replied with a measure of levity. They walked through the remains of shops and homes, rusted mechanical bodies littering the area here and there- long since gutted of anything useful.

"We know you're armed! We aren't, so please don't shoot us!" It was a young girl's voice, different from before and followed by a hissed ‘shh!’. Looking to where it came from, they could see a figure near one of the dilapidated building's edges. Turning the corner further, they could see a young woman. She was short, with tan skin dappled with lighter swathes of vitiligo, standing astride two other children. They were all dressed like they were out to play, not guarding a secret facility.

"I know you!" A younger boy exclaimed, pointing at Sojourn, who smiled kindly. The boy spoke in hurried polish to the other two before he pointed to Lena, Genji, and Angela as well. "You're Overwatch! Aren't you!?"

"So you're not working for anyone?" The eldest asked suspiciously. Her voice clearly matched that of the one they'd been speaking to.

"We're trying to solve a mystery," Sojourn replied. Her tone was one she adopted with most children.

"I can lead you halfway to where the facility is. But if we go any further, we'll be found out."

"The facility?" Sojourn asked.

"If you’re going that way, and not looking for the Institute, then you are looking for the facility.” Despite her youth and lack of weaponry, she seemed to be taking stock of their weapons with sharp eyes. Sojourn could recognize the look of a child that was exposed to the pain of the world far too early.

“Then I suppose we are.” Ana’s voice was as gentle as she could make it through the filters of her mask. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Zofia. This is Tomasz, and Hanna.” She pointed to herself, then the younger boy and girl respectively. She kept speaking as they began to walk. “The facility was made a few years after the Crisis. Whoever owns it has paid the Mayor a lot of money to keep him and the town quiet. The town has survived, but we are under strict rules.”

"Do you know who this person is?" Sojourn asked.

"No. We have never met them, but the Mayor makes sure we never want for anything. Just so long as no one even whispers about leaving the town." She crossed her arms as they moved, her eyes darting up and around on occasion. "And so long as no one tries to get into the facility. The last one who tried… we never heard from her again."

"If we can help you, we will," Lena said with a gentle smile.

"If you can. If not…" Zofia shrugged. "I don't blame you. It's been like this as long as I can remember."

Silence was cast over them for a bit before Hanna spoke, grasping Angela's hand for her attention.

"Miss, you're the doctor lady, right?" Angela smiled.

"Yes. What did you want to ask?"

"I know where they took Liliana."

" **Hanna** -" Zofia's tone was tense, pausing their journey. "We aren't going to tell them. We will get in trouble." Hanna thought, then appeared to accept Zofia's command. Zofia stopped them at the edge of a building, peering out suspiciously before she nodded and they went on the move again.

"Liliana is the one that went missing, I take it?" Ana asked carefully.

"She was a good person," Zofia started almost defensively before she stopped herself from saying more. Like that, her words hung in the air as they walked. It took a few more stops and winding through ruins before they were coming to a short stretch of overgrown land that turned into the trees.

"Keep walking straight and you will find the facility in the forest. Please don't tell them you learned from us, and… good luck." Zofia offered the brief vestige of a smile before she turned around and called for the younger children to follow. Tomasz ran to hug Sojourn around the legs and Sojourn chuckled, patting the boy's back.

"Be very brave for Hanna and Zofia, okay?" She asked, giving him a smile.

"Tomasz is a wimp! I'll take care of Zofia and him!" Hanna exclaimed. There was a call from Zofia that stopped them, Tomasz running to join her. But Hanna leaned towards Angela and hugged her. "Please see Liliana. She went to that in… instution in the mountains." She seemed to struggle with the new word.

And like that, the three were gone, disappearing back into the ruins.

“It's risky to try, but if she's there, it's possible that I could gain access to her to learn more. It also depends on how tight security is around her." Angela's brows furrowed in thought.

"I don't know if that would be safe. That would alert our intruder, don't you think?" Genji's hands slipped into his pockets.

"It might be worth it," she replied evenly. "And perhaps we'll still have the element of surprise by then."

They walked, the forest becoming more and more dense and seeming to leech the day away as they continued on. The building nearly snuck up on them, stark and grey with moss and vines covering the exterior walls in great patches. Atop it were small security cameras, looking for intruders as they swung back and forth slowly.

After a bit of repositioning, they found themselves looking at the front of the building, guarded by two figures who seemed relaxed in their chairs. There were three cameras above, staring down at any would-be intruders.

“Genji, Jack, Ana, cameras; Lena and I can take out the guards. Once we start, I’m sure there’s bound to be a dozen alarms going off.” There was a general agreement before they moved.

Jack, Ana, and Genji shot out the cameras at the same time Sojourn and Lena rushed in, subduing the guards quickly before holding a door open for everyone to rush in. It seemed almost unnaturally calm inside given their attack- though that changed quickly when those inside seemed to recognize the attack. They certainly didn’t waste time, not allowing those in the front lobby to react before they struck.

The first found himself at the butt of Jack’s rifle, a second knocked out with one strike from Sojourn’s cybernetic fist. Lena blinked forward, using the momentum to bring her guns down on one man’s head as another took a strike from the pommel of Genji’s blade, and the last dropped silently, a dart sticking out from his shoulder. That took care of the lobby, but they were faced with two main hallways.

“Lena, Angela, you’re with me. Genji, Jack, Ana, other hallway.” The team split, Jack, Ana, and Genji moving fluidly together down their own hallway.

The hallways were well-lit, and doors they passed were labeled. Multiple claimed ‘testing’, others were laboratory rooms, an infirmary, and holding rooms. The entire building seemed to be crafted like a hospital- stark white walls and sterilized atmosphere.

A door opened before them, two women in lab coats exiting. On seeing the intruders, they cried out and attempted to flee. Genji and Jack caught up to them almost effortlessly, knocking both out and pulling them into the room.

It was filled with glass domed structures, each containing a sleeping figure. They were dressed in simple attire, but also had an odd, wired helm atop their heads with different cords and wires attached to them. Screens monitoring vitals and containing clipboards of information sat to the side of each of the odd capsules.

“What in the world is this?”Ana mumbled as she moved to the closest capsule. She pulled the clipboard out and glanced it over, flipping through some of the information on it.

“‘ _Subject is aware of the location of another databank but refuses to cooperate. Subject also shows sign of interference. Current course of action: take program as far as it will go, then transfer to permanent holding for further research_.” She continued to read to herself, frowning.

Jack and Genji had also picked up other clipboards, reading through the information provided.

“Apparently this one “knows about Oasis”. I wasn’t aware there were people who did not,” Genji said with a mild chuckle.

Jack frowned at the clipboard he held. _Subject continues to refuse to participate in Labyrinth, Ariadne has tried alternate dream scenarios and each has failed. Recommend doubling dosage and attempting again. DO NOT REMOVE FROM BAY._

‘ _Alternate dream scenarios_ ’? Jack flipped through the clipboard’s papers, eventually taking the small pack of them and tucking them in his jacket.

“I take it you found something interesting?” Ana asked.

“Maybe. Not sure, yet. We should keep moving.”

“ **Jack**.”

“I promise I’ll talk about it on the transport. Let’s go.” Ana eyed him, but she turned back into the hall and towards the door at the end marked 'control’.

“There has to be something in there,” Genji said. As though in response, the door opened.

A bulky, musclebound woman ducked through it, straightening once more as she sized up the three invaders. She wore fitted armor in white and gold with deep blue accents. Atop her head was a helm similar to those in the capsules, albeit with what seemed to be Grecian-inspired decorations that held an additional ornate covering over her face. Her attire seemed more at home in a museum than on what seemed to be a security guard.

Without a word, she charged for them, covering the remaining distance in what seemed to be only a few steps. Her palm jutted forward, slamming into Jack’s gut and hurling him back several feet with a wheeze of pain. Ana fired a sleep dart, missing by only a few inches. The woman’s attention turned to her, but she was quickly set upon by Genji, Ryu-Ichimonji driven in a downward slice. The blade glanced off the woman’s forearm armor with a shriek of metal on metal, and her knee came up to slam into Genji’s middle. He was sent sprawling just as Jack charged back in.

The woman took a wide stance, bracing herself, and Jack reconsidered his tactic. He instead dropped at the last moment and skidded between her legs, standing on the other side and delivering an elbow to her side. Ana’s darts flew, continuing to split the woman’s attention. She snarled and turned, missing Jack by a few inches with a right hook, but connected with her left nigh-on instantly. He heard his mask crackle and the visor glitched from the force of the impact, his head swimming as he stumbled back. He righted himself in time for Genji to leap onto her back, throwing her weight off-balance. She stumbled and Jack swept her legs, landing her on her back and nearly crushing the ninja. She grabbed Jack’s still-extended leg by the thigh, dragging him as she stood. He struck out with his other foot, missing, and she instead threw him like a ragdoll back down the hallway.

Genji’s blade came down on her armor again, this time using the momentum from her deflection to drive the blade into her side. She howled in rage and pain, grabbing Genji’s wrist. In the blink of an eye, his armor and cybernetics screeched and offered a sickening snap as they broke. He cried out in pain, and she pulled the blade from her side with a snarl. She rose it as if to strike him, but the first sounds of gunfire stopped her instead.

Shots passed over Genji, driving into the woman and sending her stumbling back. The katana clattered to the floor unceremoniously. She focused her attention down the hall onto the newcomers, Sojourn's railgun peppering her relentlessly. Considering her options, she instead moved to retreat, running back down the hallway and not pausing even when more shots buried into her. As the door sealed closed, red lights and alarms began to fill the base with warnings.

“Genji!” Angela’s voice rang out as she ran forward to the injured ninja. He sat up, holding his arm close to him while the other retrieved his fallen blade. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. But my wrist is broken."

"At least it's not your sword hand," she said as she helped him up and inspected it.

Jack sat up, wincing and feeling along his ribcage. He found one of the broken ribs and wheezed at the shot of pain, staying where he was for the moment as his head swam. Ana was by his side, helping him up after a moment.

“What happened?” She asked cautiously as she looked Jack over. She lifted the mask off his face and he winced. He could already feel that the entire side of his face bore a deep bruise from the impact on the mask, his beard now stark against deep purple. “Nothing we did affected her.”

“She hits like a super soldier, I'll tell you that.” Jack winced as Ana’s fingers continued to look for more wounds. One of her darts poked at his shoulder, and he grunted in reply.

They approached the door, sealed shut after the woman had fled through it. Thick metal barred them from entry, no matter how much they attempted to fight it. The keypad had sealed over as well, leaving them no options to get into the room. Angela stepped back, looking around.

“We found something in the other hallway, though. It’s a comms room, and had what seemed to be half of a set of new coordinates. Might be best to cut our losses here and get out.” Sojourn began to move back, and the rest followed her in agreement.

"I want to visit the institution," Angela began as they moved. "We're close to an answer here, and I don't want to leave any stone unturned."

"Worth a try, if you think so, Dr. Ziegler."

***

“Angela Ziegler.” She shifted, waiting for the man to check through his list. “I’m here to see Liliana.”

“Alright. Through the left set of metal detectors. You’ll have to leave everything non-essential at the door. Liam will meet you and take you to her room.” Angela nodded her thanks and moved through the metal detectors without incident. She pulled her lab coat on and straightened herself out before following Liam down the hall. They walked for a long while in silence, passing many doors- through which she could see quaint and simply decorated rooms. Most of the patients within seemed to be either relaxing or working on something. The notion that she would be unchallenged seemed to only add to the theory that whoever was targeting them wasn't at all aware of, or concerned about, their interest. Not like her involvement with Overwatch was common knowledge outside of Overwatch and whoever their antagonist was.

They went down two flights of stairs and through another hallway before they finally arrived at the door.

“You’ve got ten minutes. Don’t agitate her, don’t bring anything up about Wołowiec.” He let her in, and she stepped through, looking around. This room seemed to be somewhat more cozy than others, clearly meant for a very long stay. Liliana herself was seated by a window, crocheting.

“Liliana?” The woman looked up.

“Who are you?” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes laser focused on Angela.

“My name is Angela. I’m a doctor. I just wanted to talk for a bit. Is that alright?” Liliana paused, her eyes narrowing. She looked around, as though trying to find something. Standing, she left her crochet and began to look around the little apartment. “Can I ask what you’re looking for?”

“Ariadne. I know she’s here. Let me see your eyes.” She swiftly moved to Angela, and Angela calmly let her gaze into her eyes. After a few moments, she nodded in apparent satisfaction. “You’re not fake.”

“I’m not,” Angela replied softly. “Can I sit with you?”

Liliana paused, then nodded jerkily. She sat back down in her chair, and Angela pulled one up across from her.

“I think I've gone through some part of what you have,” Angela said carefully. Liliana squinted, then directed her gaze outside.

“You’ve had the dreams, then.” Angela nodded. “Her name’s Ariadne. Not the person behind everything, but Ariadne is the woman you see. I know Ariadne, and she doesn’t exist.”

“What is she doing?” Angela questioned.

“She wants what’s in your mind. She wants to take all your ideas and give them to her “Guardian”. I know they put me here. The dreams, the labyrinth, the questions- she starts to deny your reality. You start forgetting what’s a dream and what’s not. Let me see your eyes.”

She grasped Angela’s face gently, staring into her eyes. Angela patiently allowed the inspection. After a moment, Liliana nodded.

“She can’t replicate human eyes, you know. She was designed by her Guardian to make it all feel real, but you can tell. You can’t program a soul. Her and her guardian wanted something from me. I don’t even know anymore. I forgot my family, I forgot my house. All of it’s gone, and now I stay here. Sometimes I wake up and I think I’m in the dreams again.” Angela frowned, thinking of her earlier interaction with Jack in the morning. The feeling that she was asleep again, and the knowledge that Jack had experienced that, too.

“We want to stop her.” Angela tried to speak with confidence, but not too forcefully. "Or.. This Guardian. Do you remember their name?"

“You can’t stop Ariadne. She always comes back. You may think she’s gone, then suddenly you’re in the labyrinth again. She wants everything from you. They’re looking for something. Something big. I knew what it was. Then they took it. I don’t want it back now. I just want to…” She trailed off, then clasped her hands in her lap and shifted. “I want to know where home is.”

Angela felt her heart squeeze at the woman’s state. Cognizant that she had been robbed but unable to recall what had been taken. She nodded gently.

“If I can some day find a way to help, I will.” Liliana stared at her for a long moment. Her brows came together, eyes flicking out the window in thought, and Angela gave her time.

"Pasiphos. Find Pasiphos."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon 1: I hc more powerful AIs like Athena have cores that house most of their personal code like personality, etc. Omnics have it as well, meaning that so long as the core is intact, the omnic can survive. For omnics, the core is usually housed in the head or chest cavity. For AIs, it can be stored pretty much anywhere that's connected to whatever they're housed in. Athena's was stored in the main control room of the base.
> 
> headcanon 1.5: I actually had it for a while that Jack was the one to rescue Athena, but swapped it to Winston because while I think it works for Jack, I think it works better for Winston.


End file.
